


Admiring My Nightmares

by Falka_tyan



Series: Out of the Dark - Into the Light [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blindfolds, Bondage, Cages, Dom/sub, Eventual Happy Ending, Families Murdered, Fluff, Imprisonment, Kenma in his 2nd year of University, Kuroo Suffers a Lot, Kuroo in his 3rd year of Unviersity, Letters, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Oikawa and Iwaizumi are 8 years older than Kuroo, Oikawa and Iwaizumi are Criminals, Oikawa is a Freak, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Possessive Behavior, Slavery, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falka_tyan/pseuds/Falka_tyan
Summary: Kuroo and Kozume find out, that their families have been murdered by a mafia group, and they have survived only because one of the smaller mafia bosses, Oikawa, wanted Kuroo as his "toy".To save Kozume, Kuroo agrees to let Oikawa play with him and to be perfectly submissive to the mafia boss. The only condition is, that Kozume stays alive and safe.Will Kuroo and Kozume have a chance to save themselves?





	1. A Bad Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone!  
> This is quite a dark, sad story - please, mind the tags!  
> It's been posted originally in November 2016. I have edited it and corrected some minor mistakes (hello, the pants and chain question).  
> I hope you'll have a nice time if you decide to read it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo makes the acquaintance of Oikawa and prepares himself for a gloomy future.

**_It’s the first day of the rest of your life. (Timo Maas feat. Brian Molko - First Day)_ **

 

The room was dark, and the figures on the floor were quiet. Kuroo Tetsurou and his best friend and ex-teammate, Kozume Kenma, sat on the cold floor near each other with their hands bound behind their backs. The only window didn't give a lot of light, early morning outside being gloomy and cloudy.

 

Tetsurou was reclining against the cold wall with his left side while sleeping Kenma was leaning on his chest to the right. Though the raven-haired boy was glad, that at least one of them would gain some sleep, he couldn’t understand, how Kenma managed to sleep in that situation, in this room, in this position. Tetsurou's own shoulders and arms have been aching for hours now, but nevertheless, neither the pain nor the cold were the reasons for his insomnia. Tetsurou heaved a sigh, looking at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure, whether he will survive the next few days. Unwillingly, he started recalling the occurrences of the last 12 hours which have led him here.

 

…

He hadn’t been able to cry or to scream, as he came home after a busy and happy day to see only burnt ruins where his house used to be. He just stood there and watched, until somebody came to him from his back and knocked him out. The next time he got conscious he was in a half-lighted cellar. The cellar looked somehow familiar, and he understood, that it was in Kenma’s house. He was seated on a chair, with his wrists bound behind his back and a Scotch tape over his mouth. He was actually tied to the chair, unable to move any body part, except for the head. Tetsurou felt dizzy and he was sure, it was the result of the blow he got on the back of his head earlier. In the dim light, the boy saw a figure of a tall man, dressed in a long coat and a hat, standing with his back to Tetsurou. “How stupid”, the boy thought, “The guy looks like a cliché gangster from American movies.”

 

The man in coat turned his head and looked Tetsurou in the eyes. The “gangster” was rather handsome with big eyes, nice facial features and soft curly hair falling from under the hat. But his look was nothing but smugness and evil. The man came closer to him in small, quiet footsteps and stopped right in front of the chair, still not breaking the eye contact, smiling wickedly. The next second Tetsurou heard cries above the basement, then some loud banging sounds (like … shots?). The black-haired boy didn’t want to trust his ears. For the first time that day he felt panic rising in his chest. The gangster-guy, probably, noticed his uneasiness, because his smile became a wide evil grin.

 

“Worried, aren’t you?” the guy licked a corner of his lips, still smiling.

 

Tetsurou made a mumbling sound from under the tape.

 

“We killed all of your family members and now we are doing the same with Kozume family. You’re friends with the son, aren’t you?”

 

Another mumbling sound, louder this time.

 

“I didn’t kill you only because I wanted you for myself. But nobody here is interested in your little friend Kenma, you know. Except for you, probably. Oh, don’t look so sad, -cooed the monster. - Is he so precious to you?”

 

Tetsurou’s look went from anxious to pleading. The man in coat stood there, in front of him, clearly thinking something over. Then he suddenly ran to the stairs and disappeared from view, leaving Tetsurou alone and desperate. The tall boy was sure, that he couldn’t carry on without Kenma by his side, even if he stays alive in these circumstances. Kenma was his childhood friend, his teammate on the school volleyball team, his setter, and his most valuable person. Kenma was the one who cared for him always and who could make him feel at ease even when he was highly stressed. He was a constant in his life. Tetsurou loved Kenma.

 

The boy’s mind was swirling from all this, the only things he could think of now were Kenma, his non-performed love confession, and his helplessness. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t tear the thick rough ropes, and if he tried too hard he would probably fall onto the floor with the chair. The rooms above were quiet for the time being, save for the footsteps. No shots, no cries, but it didn’t mean anything. Different variants of Kenma’s horrible death started to roll before Tetsurou’s eyes: strangling, drowning, stabbing… He couldn’t think of a positive outcome anymore, since the criminals have killed his family and burnt his house, and the hat-guy told him that Kenma was of no need to them. Instead of letting the panic overwhelm him, Tetsurou closed his eyes and waited patiently, seeing that he can’t change anything. He only tried not to go mad until the gangster returns.

 

Somehow Tetsurou was sure, that the guy would be back sooner or later. He sat there with his eyes closed, counting volleyballs. It was one of their stupid jokes, which grew to be Tetsurou’s habit. Once he had come to Kenma’s place for a sleepover and just couldn’t fall asleep. Irritated Kenma had suggested him to start counting volleyballs (not sheep), Tetsurou had tried and successfully slept that night. Afterward, the ridiculous counting reminded him of Kenma, making him feel safer. This time it didn’t help at all, but it was better than imagining Kenma’s unmoving body. Anything was better than that.

 

“Sleeping, huh?” came a teasing lilt from right in front of him.

 

Tetsurou opened his eyes instantly. How didn’t he notice? The fucking gangster was like a cat, moving smooth and soundless. Then the boy’s eyes widened and he made an attempt to stand up, forgetting about the ropes, which held him in place. Horror struck him as Tetsurou saw Kenma lying on the gangster's shoulder.

 

“Stay calm, you”, said the guy sternly. “It was a hell of a challenge to make my dear friend Iwaizumi leave two boys alive, not one. He is so strict about those things, ya know? No evidence, no eyewitnesses… So boring, isn’t he?”

 

The man took his time lay Kenma on the floor. The short blonde boy looked so peaceful despite everything, Tetsurou felt relieved and more worried at the same time.

 

“They gave him some kind of sleeping pills, so he won’t wake up anytime soon.”

 

By saying this, the gangster pulled out a knife and positioned it at Kenma’s throat.

 

“Now, Kuroo, everything depends on you. I can kill the Kozume kid right here. Or I can leave him alive and safe, but you will have to pay for it. What are you ready to do for him? I hear you mumbling something incoherent, does it mean, you don’t wanna pay? Do I hear correct, you want me to stab him right now? Ow, the tape on your mouth! You were probably saying you want me to kill him in a week or two after I have played enough with him?”

 

With this words, the man stood up, leaving the blonde lying unconscious, and unglued the tape from Kuroo’s mouth in one short motion. The tall boy gasped for air, then collected himself and said in a low but firm voice:

 

“I beg you, please, don’t touch Kenma. I will do everything you want, just let me know he is safe.”

 

“So desperate already? I was thinking it will take me weeks to break you and to make you obedient. So good, that we started the massacre with your house, not with his. Otherwise, I wouldn't have such a pretty hostage. But now I am in Iwa-chan’s debt. I owe him at least ten wishes.”

 

Tetsurou didn’t know what to expect next. Looking at the strange man, pouting before him about some irrelevant things after threatening Tetsurou’s friend with a knife, the black-haired boy doubted the man’s sanity.

 

“Anyway, - the man in coat continued, suddenly locking his eyes with Tetsurou’s again, “we have to make an agreement, huh? So, let me see… You accept your rightful place as a slave to me, and I do neither kill nor harm your dear friend in any way. Is it OK?”

 

“As long as I’m sure that Kenma lives and you don’t cause him any harm.”

 

“Good. I’ve told you before that I want you for myself, now I’ll explain what’ve meant a little further. I want you pliant in my arms, submissive in every sense of the word and not just belonging to me like a kind of a living doll.”

 

The man in hat watched Tetsurou dispassionately, looking serious for the first time since Tetsurou saw him. Tetsurou felt a strange numbness growing inside him.

 

He should ask more questions. Making a contract with a future slave should be considered seriously, shouldn’t it? Despite knowing, that his opinion was basically irrelevant, Tetsurou resumed setting his terms:

 

“I want to have evidence that Kenma is OK, otherwise I will be anything but obedient.”

 

“What if I will arrange Skype calls for you two? So you will see him in real time every day. But I won’t let you talk and won’t let him see you. Oh, I can make him write letters to you! On paper! And let you answer him once in a week. Of course, I will read all your correspondence…”

 

"I agree," Tetsurou interrupted his train of thoughts aloud. This man viewed him and Kenma as puppets, nothing more.

 

Upon hearing Tetsurou’s agreement, the man cheered:

 

“I had no doubt in it, my dear!”

 

A hand grabbed Tetsurou’s messy black hair at the nape and tugged at it harshly.

 

“Now, since you’ve agreed, there will be some rules for you to follow. First... No speaking without my permission or my direct question to you, and, certainly, no interrupting your master. The other rules… we can figure it out later, what do you think?”

 

“Is it a direct question or just an expression?” mused Tetsurou, the man’s hand still pulling at his hair. He decided to answer:

 

“Yes … Master?” –  Tetsurou repeated the silly word after the man. He didn’t even know the gangster’s name. Was he meant just to say “Yes”, without a title? Or call him “Sir”?

 

“Good boy, Kuroo! Or should I call you Tetsurou? Umm, I like the sound of Kuroo better, so I will call you by your last name. Albeit we will be very, very close...”

 

The sound of heavy steps interrupted their conversation. The man in hat let Tetsurou’s head go and beamed, watching a well-built man with spiky dark-brown hair coming down the stairs.

 

"Iwa-chan! It’s you!"

 

The strange gangster in hat rushed towards the newcomer to be roughly shoved against the wall and kissed violently. Tetsurou stared in amusement and disbelief how his tormentor leaned into the touch of this “Iwa-chan” (his full name must be Iwaizumi, right?), kissing him back and practically moaning when the man with spiky hair let him go.

 

“Rude, as always, Iwa-chan” pouted the man in a coat as if he were a little boy who just has been bullied by a schoolmate and not a criminal with a knife.

 

“Shut up, Oikawa.”

 

“So the lunatic's name is Oikawa”, thought Tetsurou. Not that he was interested, but it would be strange, not to know the name of the person, whose slave he agreed to be mere minutes ago.

 

The “Iwa-chan” came closer to Tetsurou and Kenma, looked upon both and asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice:

 

“And who is about to become your new toy? The black one or the white one?”

 

“The black one, but what a stupid way to call him! Typically Iwaizumi! Why would I need the smaller one? Too fragile, not a comparison to the muscular athlete Kuroo is! I’ve chosen a fine specimen of a human!”

 

“But Kozume was a volleyball player at school as well; he was a setter, just like you back then. It was, hmm, eleven years ago or so? Since Kuroo is eight years younger and is now in his third year at the university. By the way, you steal the future of a promising biologist, don’t you feel guilty?”

 

Being discussed like he wasn’t even in the room felt strange to Tetsurou. Maybe, it was one of the things he had to get used to now.

 

“What are you talking about, stupid Iwa-chan! If not for me, you’d have Kuroo killed three hours ago! He doesn’t have anything to steal from him now,” hissed Oikawa through gritted teeth.

 

“Except for the blonde boy?”

 

“Exactly! Don’t make me madder than I already am! Why did you have to remind me that I am not seventeen anymore! And…about setters, I know, he was a weak sportsman, unlike me. Am I right, Kuroo?”

 

Oikawa looked at Tetsurou with piercing eyes. Tetsurou wondered, how to answer correctly since Oikawa’s pride seemed to be involved.

 

“He was not a great sportsman, master,” - answered Tetsurou after a five-second pause, the word “master” feeling weird on his tongue. “You will soon accustom to this, my stupid friend”, said Tetsurou to himself. “But he was the brain of our team back then, though he couldn’t serve powerfully or spike”.

 

Oikawa tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. Tetsurou understood that he had somehow messed up with his answer. He was starting to get more afraid of the future with every passing heartbeat, even if it was too late now to start being anxious.

 

“We will discuss it later, Kuroo”, - exclaimed Oikawa. “Iwa-chan, are we ready to move now?”

 

“I wait for my boys to come get your prisoners. We will bring them to the cellar first, not to the room you prepared. After what we’ve done you have a lot of things to do at home before you can start your games, you know, Shittykawa?”

 

“I’ll wait outside. Your presence is too overwhelming, Iwaizumi.”

 

With that, Oikawa put his hat straight and started to the stairs, but Iwaizumi grabbed him by the hand and asked:

 

“Tell me one thing. Why do you need them, your fuckboys? Am I not enough?”

 

During their intercourse, Tetsurou sat quietly, looking at his thighs. He felt out of place during that talk, wanting to disappear. These two seemed very close to each other, though Oikawa was eager to have “toys” as well, being not satisfied with only his boyfriend. But, anyway... Was Iwaizumi a boyfriend, a lover, a fuck buddy? Was he a sane person, unlike Oikawa?

 

“Ah, Iwa-chan! No, you are not. You don’t fucking let me do the things I want to do to you!”

 

“No one in his right mind would allow you doing this, if that person had a choice, of course.”

 

After that, the eyes of the spiky-haired boy locked with Tetsurou’s for a moment, and the tall boy seemed to notice something similar to pity before he quickly averted his gaze. Iwaizumi and Oikawa started walking outside, occasionally touching each other and bickering. “Like an old couple”, thought Tetsurou unexpectedly for himself. He was left alone with Kenma sleeping on the floor. What does his friend know? Did he see his relatives die, Kuroo family’s house burn? Where were the neighbours while it all happened? Why didn’t the police intervene? What would Kenma say, if he knew about the choices Tetsurou has been forced to make during the past hour?

 

His train of thoughts was broken by three scary men who came downstairs. One of them took Kenma and lifted him on the shoulder, then carried the still unconscious boy outside. The other two approached Tetsurou, one of them cutting the ropes at the chair with a dangerously looking knife, the other just standing there and handling the situation. Tetsurou felt exhausted. As his legs and arms have been freed, he found out, he could barely move. The standing guy bent over to rub his muscles roughly. It was anything but gentle and caring, but Tetsurou realized he won’t be able to stand up without this unexpected help, so numb his members had become. Finally, the guy who cut the ropes tugged the black-haired by the arm and Tetsurou stumbled towards the exit, being held by the man to one side. The rooms of Kozume residence were messed, things wrecked and torn to pieces. Tetsurou distinguished the smell of gasoline.

Have his and Kenma’s parents been somehow close to gangsters like Oikawa? Why kill them all otherwise? And even burn everything afterward? “I haven’t shed a single tear upon losing my own family”, thought Tetsurou with self-hatred and disgust while being led to a truck. His mind was numb, and, as he hadn't seen any of his family members dead, he couldn't even imagine it now. He stood there unmoving, looking at his best friend’s house taking fire before a rough hand shoved him inside the truck. He fell on the car’s floor and crawled to some small bench to the right. Then Tetsurou saw Kenma lying on a mattress to the front, and moved to lie near him. He held the blond in his arms and watched him sleep peacefully during their ride into uncertainty. The raven-haired boy didn’t know, whether the journey has been long or shirt, he knew only one thing: soon he won’t be able to see Kenma, to touch him, to listen to his small voice… All he will do was entertaining Oikawa until the rotten freak has had enough of him and threw him out like trash. Tetsurou prohibited himself to think of it. He had one goal in his life now – to make Kenma’s life as safe as he can. He didn’t have any choice at the moment, but everything could change, couldn’t it? Tetsurou smiled bitterly to himself and tried not to vomit.

…

 

 

“Ah, there were some sleeping drugs for Kenma”, recalled Tetsurou. That is why his friend has been sleeping until now. Tetsurou looked fondly at his beloved one, breathing calmly by his side. The tall boy tried to memorize everything about him. He had always valued Kenma, he had appreciated the smaller boy’s contribution to his life…but not enough, clearly not enough.

 

At this moment the door opened and the familiar scary man with broad shoulders came in to take Kenma away, lifting him up on his shoulder with such an ease, as if the helpless boy was a paper doll. Tetsurou could only stare, as his precious person was being dragged away. He couldn’t stop the mobster, couldn’t influence the things happening around him. The scariest thing was he couldn’t make sure that Kenma was safe. All he could do was wait, hope and count on was the promise this insane guy, Oikawa, has made, when he has agreed not to hurt Kenma in exchange for Tetsurou’s freedom.

 

Speak of the devil…

 

“Hello, you! Miss me already?” the already well-known mocking voice called out from the entrance, and Tetsurou couldn’t stop himself from shuddering. So, that was what his life was meant to be now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know, that Kuroo doesn't deserve it!  
> My sister just told me I'm a bad person...


	2. The Sky-Blue Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo is led to his cell by Oikawa. The play is about to start, and Kuroo tries to understand, how to behave in the new circumstances. Kuroo also recalls some events from his past.

**_I wrote this novel just for you_ **

**_That's why it's vulgar_ **

**_That's why it's blue_ **

**_And I say, thank you_ **

**_And I say, thank you._ **

**_(Placebo -  Blue American)_ **

 

Oikawa approached Kuroo slowly, holding something grey behind his back. The handsome gangster was smiling in his wicked way, all cheer and happiness. He was practically bouncing off the floor from excitement. Tetsurou just sat there unmoving, at a loss for words. It seemed like all his smugness and sarcasm have disappeared during the devastating rush of recent events. Unlike usually, he didn’t care anymore whether he looked decent or not. In fact, after Kenma has been taken away, he felt numb all over. Meanwhile, his tormentor came closer to the figure on the floor, wicked grin still on his lips. He bent over and pulled the black-haired up from the floor tugging at his upper arm. Tetsurou lifted himself up with effort. When Oikawa’s hand left his shoulder, he just stood there with a downcast look. He didn’t experience anxiety or extreme fear, which was to be expected, but, if he had any chance, he would avoid looking the lunatic in the eyes for as long as possible. But, of course, Oikawa had different plans: with a tug on Tetsurou’s messy black hair he made the latter look up and meet his unwavering, disturbingly perceptive eyes. The brunet grinned at his stunned captive, cheerful as ever.

Afterwards, the curly-haired man never stopped smiling; he was smiling, when he was steadying Tetsurou, who would stumble after sitting without a movement for so long; he was smiling, when he gazed at Tetsurou joyfully while petting him on the cheek; he was smiling, when he put a grey sack on the boy’s head; and the newly-made prisoner would swear, Oikawa continued smiling while he was dragging Tetsurou with his vision robbed from him and his wrists still bound behind his back somewhere down a corridor and then upstairs. A ridiculous thought came to Tetsurou’s mind: in his previous life, he has been, more often than not, the one to grin and mock everyone around.

 

“My humiliation is only starting,” reminded Tetsurou himself while being led blindly into the unknown. “I will have to accept what happens to me”. In earnest, he just didn’t have any choice now; either he was accepting his new life or he was going to get himself and Kenma killed. The only opportunity to choose has been given to him in Kenma’s cellar six or seven hours ago, and he had preferred the safety for one of them as an alternative to the unsafety for both. Who would have chosen differently? Was there any alternative at all? Would Kenma do the same for him, if he were Oikawa’s target? “I don’t know the answers, and I probably won’t ever get to know. All I have for the moment is just my feeling towards Kenma, and this will not change. Because this is only up to me, to love or not to love, right? Even if Kenma won’t treat me like I want him to, even if he will prefer to stay a friend, and nothing more, to me, I am not to be ashamed of how I feel or what I would do to protect him. I made this choice for myself as much as for him.” His inner monologue was cut off by a sudden stop, then Tetsurou heard a door opening. “The door of my cell, huh?” he wondered in his head. Oikawa dragged the tall boy inside, and the door closed smoothly after them. The sack was taken off his head, revealing a quite average room with dark blue carpet flooring, sky-blue painted walls, and a bed with metallic bedposts in the corner to the left from the door with a fluffy rug in front of it. It was more furniture than Tetsurou would have expected; there was even a bookshelf at the wall to the right from the entrance. It looked like Oikawa took his time preparing for his prisoner’s arrival. There was also a white door in the wall next to the shelf. Everything in the room looked quite normal. Except for the metallic bars on the single window and a big cage in the corner diagonally opposite to the entrance door.

 

Tetsurou was so entranced with his own thoughts while observing the room that the cheerful exclamation from behind made him jump in surprise:

“Nice, isn’t it? I’ve even added the bookshelves and bought several books for you online! You sure will like it in here! The white door leads to the adjoining bathroom. Why are you still silent, Kuroo? Has the cat got your tongue?”

“It is all very… nice, master,” the raven-haired boy forced himself to speak. He didn’t dare to turn around.

“This is more like it! So-oo, I have a present for you!” said the man happily and added, “Stay still for a moment!” as if Kuroo was the one to make a fuss here.

The same instant Tetsurou felt something hard and heavy hugging his neck tightly. He almost tried to reach for the collar with his hands, but the ropes reminded him of his lack of freedom.

“Fits perfectly! For your information, the collar is made from steel with a layer of leather inside, for your comfort. It has one more important characteristic, though. There is an electric shock device installed, and I’m the one with the remote, of course. There is also a specific white line on the floor right in front of the entrance door, and you literally should not cross it. Oh, you should go and try it right away! Just to know, how it works! Wait for a second; I will unbind your arms first.”

By saying that, Oikawa bent over and undid the ties. Traces of bindings and rope burns were obvious on the skin. The gangster gingerly massaged Tetsurou’s wrists and hands, making the boy freeze from the sudden gesture of endearment. When Oikawa let his arms go, Tetsurou somehow didn’t know where to put them. So he just continued to massage his right wrist with his left hand in front of him, standing half-turned to face Oikawa. The elder one started pouting:

“Don’t just stand there like a stuffed dummy, go ahead, and try to reach the door!”

Tetsurou obeyed the command unthinkingly and headed towards the door. As he merely stepped on the thick white line, he felt a wave of shock and a dull ache in his neck. He lost his senses for a long moment. This was the final nail in the coffin: Tetsurou’s exhaustion took over and he collapsed to the floor. Luckily, he fell backwards, moving his body away from the dangerous line. He felt Oikawa’s hands reaching for him, rescuing him from hurting his head, and then the man was holding him, swaying a little and mumbling something irritatingly tender. That was the last thing Tetsurou remembered from that day; he finally lost his consciousness.

 

 

The next time Tetsurou woke up, it was midday and he was still in bed, lying flat on his back under a thin blanket. The sun was shining brightly through the big window opposite his bed. The black-haired boy felt lost and puzzled, he could recognize neither the bed nor the room. Then, an unfamiliar weight on his neck made him startle, and the next moment he recalled the recent events. The realisation hit the raven hard. It took him a massive strain of will not to close his eyes again and try to forget himself. Tetsurou sat up on the bed, leaned on his cushion and took a long look around. His first visit to this room passed in a blur, the memories were all mixed up: Kenma on the cellar floor, fire catching Kenma's house, the car ride, the demonstration of a possible punishment for trying to escape, excruciating hours spent with bound hands in a dull room, the “precious” present from Oikawa... The bed, the cage and the bookshelves looked already familiar. His head didn't ache anymore, nor did his wrists. Surely though, the ugly rope traces were not gone.

Tetsurou was fully naked under the sheets. The boy intended to stand up and go to the bathroom, but when he shifted in bed, he felt another strange thing: there was definitely something on his left ankle. He brushed the blanket aside, took a close look and discovered a shackle with a long chain attached. How did he not notice such a burden as soon as he has woken up? OK, but is he able to leave the bed at all? The boy tugged at the chain and sighed in relief when it rolled on the floor: it was about seven meters long and would allow him a quite wide range of movement. The other end of the chain was fastened at a metallic hook in the centre of the room. The metal dinged softly when being jostled. With caution, Tetsurou stood up from the bed and walked towards the white door, the chain sliding beside him. The feeling of being chained was weird but bearable.

The bathroom was tiny; it had a toilet, a shower cabin, a small sink, a shelf with towels and a dressing table, everything in white. A paper on the dressing table caught his sight. It was...pink. Seriously? Tetsurou decided first to take care of himself, then to look at the contents of the letter (the pink colour reminded him of some stupid love letter intended for Valentine's day). Not wishing to stall, Tetsurou stepped into the shower. It seemed that somebody has washed him while he was unconscious, because otherwise he would’ve been sticky with sweat. He still cleaned himself thoroughly, enjoying the warm water and allowing himself to forget about his worries for several minutes in order to concentrate on the sensation of water streams on his skin. After drying himself with a towel he finally took the paper from the white dressing table. It turned out that there were more papers than one, only the one on top in pink. The raven-haired boy browsed through the little pile, drawing a deep breath at the sight of a familiar handwriting. For the start, he looked through two messages from Kenma on plain white paper, both with dates, telling him, that the younger boy was OK. In the first Kenma notified, that he was held in a small room with metallic bars on the windows, he was practically always alone. He had a bookcase full of some modern and classic novels as well as psychiatric books. The blonde was complaining about the " _damned metallic necklace which made the neck ache and was horribly cold in the shower_ ". Tetsurou smiled ironically at that. He wondered whether Kenma also had an ankle chain. "He seems to be calmer than I thought. Doesn't he know about the fate of our families? Or does he try to fake bravery?" Tetsurou mused. In the second note, Kenma reported, that he was given an old game console and some rare old-school games. Both of the letters were subscribed "To Kuroo Tetsurou" and signed "Kozume Kenma", all in this familiar thin uneven symbols, edged at the top. Kenma’s handwriting didn’t change much from their school time. After rereading the short notes from his lovely friend a number of times, Tetsurou finally came to read Oikawa's "love letter":

 

_Dear Kuroo,_

_Hopefully, you are awake by now! Just now as I'm writing this very note, you had been sleeping for 36 hours. I didn't wake you up because I want you to be in good shape when we start to communicate properly. I am looking forward to seeing you!!!_

_About our daily routine. I have promised to show you Kenma per Skype every day. You have already missed this opportunity 2 times. But it’s OK, I recorded him in his room, made videos and will show it to you someday. You know, I’ve decided that a simple Skype talk is too boring since the beginning. It means you won’t be talking to Kenma. You will be a kind of a peeping Tom. There is a camera in Kenma’s room (there are several, actually, as well as in yours), so I will just use it to make a Skype call with you. Kenma will not know that he is participating in a vivid conversation. You will have an hour to watch his life every day, except for Sunday. On Sundays, you will write letters to Kenma. So, you see, the little blonde hostage will not have the option to see you. This is only fair, because you’re the one to suffer here, and he is the one to sit safely in his room, so you have all the benefits. The thing is, your video chats will always happen at different times, from 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. I want them to come by surprise! One of my men would come to you, bring a laptop with a locked keyboard, where the Skype session with Kenma would be turned on already. You would watch him alone, and as the hour goes by, my subordinate would come back and take the laptop away._

_The next thing I wanted to talk to you after describing your future happy life with Kenma is MY relationship with YOU. Brace yourself! You are my slave now, so I have a lot of interesting shared activities in mind. First of all, the next time we see each other, I will fuck you in the ass. I want our first sex to be a nice experience for both of us, so please, start preparing yourself. If you wake up today, you will have about three days ahead. You are perfectly capable of using your fingers to prepare your asshole for penetration. So take your time, and enjoy! There are three plastic boxes under your bed: one with clothes, one with toys, lube and condoms, which you are allowed to use, and one with my toys. You are banned from opening the latter! You won’t mix up the boxes; the two with your things are transparent, and the one with mine is not. Please, fill free to use the items you like from the transparent box No.2! There are some guides on sex between men and BL manga editions on your shelves, I’ve put them there yesterday. You have eventually noticed that you have a long chain attached to your ankle. I decided to turn off the electroshock fence in the front of your entrance door until I come back. I don’t want you to do something stupid, faint again, crush your head on something and die while I’m on a business trip. So the chain will prevent you from doing childish things like trying to go away from your dear sweet Oikawa._

_And the last, but not the least! I would like to kindly remind you that Kenma is safe as long as you are good to me and obey my every command._

_Warmly,_

_Oikawa, Your Master_

_P.S. You have to obey my commands in any given situation, but begging for mercy is nothing but welcome!_

 

Tetsurou’s facial expressions changed from angry to embarrassed several times while reading. The letter’s content was unexpected. Holy shit, everything, that this bastard has done till now, has been unexpected. The black haired boy finally went left the bathroom and returned to his bed. The chain was being a real pain in the ass; Tetsurou has almost fallen three times because he’s stumbled on it. As described in the letter, the boxes stood under the bed. He also found several water bottles next to them. The boy opened the clothes box and got himself a pair of boxers, a pair of fancy skinny jeans, black with some grey ornament, and a black T-shirt. He was grateful for the clothing until he realised that he couldn’t put on the boxers and the jeans because of the ankle chain. “Simply excellent”, thought Tetsurou. “At least not all the clothes are pink, as could’ve been expected”. Then Tetsurou’s gaze fell on the other transparent box and he had to quickly look away. He could start with the guides and leave physically playing with his ass till later, right? The boy gritted his teeth in silent fury. All this mess was really getting on his nerves. But he didn’t want to show his vulnerability to his tormentor, so he drew in a few measured breaths, fished out the longest T-shirt in the box and put in on in an attempt to preserve the remnants of his modesty.

Soon after Tetsurou’s dressed, the door opened slowly and a guy with dark brown hair and dragon tattoos on both of his arms came in, holding a tray. He silently put the tray on the floor in front of the door and left. There was a plate with hot chicken soup, a dish with fried potatoes and a roast beef. Tetsurou dragged the clothes box from under the bed and used it as a little table, sitting on the floor near his bed and having his first meal in a long time. Luckily, the bandits haven’t forgotten the utensils; or, more likely, they just didn’t plan to humiliate him in this particular way. Because, obviously, Oikawa was crazy enough to make Tetsurou stand on all fours and eat from the floor if such an idea ever came to his head.

After having a meal Tetsurou brought the tray back to the door, moved the box under the bed and went to the bookshelves. Since he was stuck here and had a task from Oikawa, he had to start with something. He chose the BL mangas as the most innocent thing. “Okay, well, maybe it was a stretch to call BL manga an innocent thing”, thought Tetsurou after reading the first chapter of “Target in the Viewfinder” by Yamane Ayano. The content was disgusting to him, and the situations were too similar to his own one to just read, laugh and relax. All this kidnapping crap and mind-fucked authors! The next few volumes of different mangas Tetsurou took were all about some schoolboys. The 16-year olds seemed to be far more experienced in both hetero and homosexual sex than poor oblivious Tetsurou in his twenty. A lot of different things concerned the raven-haired boy, for example: why did they fuck in the classrooms at daytime? Didn’t they have supervisors who would visit their clubrooms from time to time? The most disturbing fact was that the bottoms in the mangas looked happy as hell the first time their asses were abused. And what about asking for their consent first? It was clear from the dialogues, that half of the characters didn’t agree to have sex. They would protest during the act, but the top wouldn’t stop, and in the end, everybody appeared satisfied. “The BL-manga must be some kind of pink-pony-land for shy dreamers,” assumed Tetsurou. The boy placed all the volumes back on the shelves and tried to read a big illustrated book called “Gay Sex Positions Guide” instead. The contents have frightened him a bit; especially the chapter about the aftereffects of anal sex. “Oikawa is now a tiny bit less of a monster in my eyes. If not for him, I wouldn’t even think about preparing my ass. Do I have to thank him later and ask to go easy on me?” Tetsurou mused inwardly.

He was interrupted by the same guy as in the morning, with a food tray in his hands. The guy put the new tray on the floor and took the previous one away. He didn’t seem bothered by the raven’s half-dressed state. Tetsurou made himself comfortable on the floor again and ate; all the food he had eaten today seemed tasteless, but he felt better after he was stuffed with nutrients again. This time the “waiter” came to take the tray away in half an hour. The servant looked rather normal despite the tattoos. Just an ordinary guy, he was probably only starting his way up in the mafia world.

 

Tetsurou discovered a simple electronic clock in the bathroom hidden in one of the dressing table’s drawers. The time shown seemed trustworthy; so it must’ve been about 19:00 as the black-haired prisoner started his first anal play ever. Despite his obvious disgust, Tetsurou persuaded himself that he didn’t have a choice. He decided that he was about to put a finger inside. Just one would be OK, right? The boy took lube, a pair of latex gloves and, after a pause, the smallest dildo he could find in the second box and went to the bathroom. After he washed his intimate parts one more time with extra care, he positioned himself against the wall in the shower cabin, put on the gloves and lubed his left hand. He was surely not a lefty, but using his right hand appeared impossible. “I do everything with my right hand, yes? I would be probably irritated if I had to use the spoon with the same hand I finger my ass,” he decided. Tetsurou found a suitable position, braced himself and began touching his arse. The lube felt weird and cold at his entrance when he started massaging the rim. Several minutes have passed, but Tetsurou still didn’t have the courage to try and put a finger inside. He stopped his manipulations and slid to the bottom of the cabin. Sitting there in this fucking lube covered gloves the boy, surprisingly to himself, started to recall their first meetings with Kenma eight years ago. Maybe, it was his mind trying to find comfort in memories.

He’s been 12 and Kenma 11 at the time. Oikawa and Iwaizumi should have turned 20 back then, accordingly. Kozume Kenma and his mother had moved to Tetsurou’s neighbourhood in Tokyo from a smaller city. Kenma’s mama had brought her kid along with herself when she had come to introduce their family to Tetsurou’s. Kenma had managed to say “Hello”, blushing profusely. Tetsurou remembered his own surprise at how incredibly proud of her little son Kenma’s mama had looked at that moment. At 11, Kenma had had dark brown hair, it has yet to be bleached for the first time. Tetsurou had been more than glad to meet Kenma; there were no other kids in the neighbouring houses at the moment. Tetsurou had been so happy to find a potential new friend. The boy had been sure right from the start that he and the shy boy will become close soon. Kenma, of course, hadn’t been that optimistic.

Then another particular memory popped into Tetsurou’s mind…

 

 

“Are you OK?” a small concerned voice asked from above. The small face of his neighbour was very serious.

“I’m fine, actually! I have been just resting here, under that nice tree…”

“You had fallen from it more than 15 minutes ago. Does your back hurt?”

“No, not at all. I’m simply too tired to stand up.”

“Here, take my hand and sit up. Our parents are absent, so I can’t bring somebody to help you. But you can lean on me.”

Tetsurou stared up at his coy neighbour, Kozume Kenma, who seemed to be embarrassed after talking too long to a stranger. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. But such minor things could wait now. The thin boy was willing to help, and it was at a good hour because his back actually ached mercilessly. He shouldn’t have climbed this tree in his new slippery shoes. So he took Kenma’s hand and sat up, rubbing his back and hissing. Then he lifted himself up to his feet and leaned on Kenma’s shoulder for support. The boy was only a little shorter than him. The long walk towards his house has been troublesome, and every step on the stairs echoed with pain… As Kenma brought him inside, Tetsurou collapsed on the nearest chair and passed out. He was woken up by an ambulance doctor. His mother was there as well, talking worriedly to Kenma and hugging him. Everybody has been afraid, that Tetsurou could have broken his spine, but he only had a very bad bruise on his back. Lucky him, he’s always landed on his feet like the cat he was. Tetsurou only had to spend a day in the hospital and endure all the examinations that had to be done.

When he was back home, his mother told him the whole story: how Kenma has called the ambulance and managed to explain the situation and tell the address correctly. Then he has found her work number in the phone book of their landline phone and called her. Tetsurou’s mom said, he sounded very focused and mature. Of course, the naughty tree-climber has been punished and was not allowed to go for a walk after school for two weeks. He wasn't even allowed to accompany his mother when she went to Kozume's place with a pie to say thank you. As the time of his punishment passed by, the first thing he did was going to Kenma’s place and thanking him personally. The younger boy hid behind his mother’s back and looked rather terrified. Tetsurou was astonished, how different Kenma had behaved then, when Tetsurou has been in danger, comparing to his shy attitude now. Tetsurou was unsure of what to say. But then, like a charm, Kenma’s mother had to visit some relatives, and the boys were left alone. Tetsurou got a chance to talk to his saviour one-on-one.

“You were so tough, Kenma! How did you manage to notice me there, under the tree? Ow, and you said, I was lying there for 15 minutes straight.”

“I’ve been observing you,” stated the younger one quite calmly.

“What? Why?”

“You always look so cool. You are like a cat, fast and pliant. And I like cats.”

“Do you have one?”

“No, I don’t. I’m allergic.”

“That’s sad.”

A short silence fell until Tetsurou could think about another thing to ask.

“Umm... We go to the same school, but I never see you walking there in the morning.”

“My mom takes me there by car.”

“Oh. Would you like to walk with me instead? It is so much fun! The other guys from my class always go home in groups, and I’ve never had any company. I’ve been so envious! And… One more time, thank you so much for helping me! You’re the one who’s cool and all!”

 

 

“And then I’ve asked him, whether he likes volleyball or not. He didn’t like sports at all. But I’ve threatened him, that I would try and jump from the net in the gym for fun (how have I intended to climb a volleyball net? It’s just Kenma didn’t know the whole threat has been ridiculous). Since Kenma got used to being worried about me by then, he followed me to the volleyball team. He was weak as an athlete, but his hands were extremely deft and he was indispensable for inventing strategies. Kenma didn’t communicate much, so I have been doing all the talking for him. And he, in his turn, had always stopped me from my hazardous shenanigans… I’ve been his tongue and his shield, and he’s been the brain for us both”. After the last thought appeared in his mind, Tetsurou felt tears forming in his eyes. He took off the smeary gloves and covered his eyes with both hands. These were the first tears he cried since the incident, and the stream seemed to be unstoppable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To me, Oikawa is a very passionate person. In this AU, however, he couldn't get all he needed from Iwaizumi, and so the rotten spiral had started to intertwist. There were other persons in his "care" before. All dead by now, I suppose. Or not, don't know yet.


	3. The Phone Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tetsurou has to masturbate in front of Oikawa, but he feels nauseous.  
> The boy escapes with a plan...

 

****_For what it's worth  
I tear the sun in three  
To light up your eyes_

**_(Placebo - For What It's Worth)_ **

 

Tetsurou woke from the stupor with a start after a loud knock on the entrance door. Knocking? What? He quickly stood up, wiped away the traces of tears from his cheeks and exited the bathroom.

“You may come in if you want,” - said the prisoner to the person outside with a smirk on his face.

The door opened. Strangely, but his visitor was the same servant, who’s brought him food before. Why would he knock? The gangster boy was holding a laptop and something like a tray. He looked embarrassed.

“You didn’t knock the previous time you visited me. Has something happened this time?” enquired Tetsurou, the smirk on his face getting only wider. Unexpectedly for himself, he felt happy because of this visit. Maybe, it was somehow connected with the fact that this would be the first time in four days when he’d be able to talk to somebody except for Oikawa and therefore not to be obliged to say “Master” each time he addressed the other.

“Boss told me that you are here to do some dirty things, so I’d better knock before I come in,” - the tattooed guy answered, flushing a little.

“Have you forgotten about knocking the previous two times you’ve entered the cell, then?”

“No. He’s told me about your… duties in our last conversation only. Before, I was ordered to just bring you food and go away,” muttered the servant, seemingly growing tired of the interrogation.

While they were talking, Tetsurou standing in the middle of the room in his long and wet T-shirt, the servant positioned the tray on the bed and put the laptop on it. The tray intended to be used as a prop for the notebook. The atmosphere seemed to grow a little friendlier, and Tetsurou decided to go on with teasing.

“What about some respect to my privacy? A polite person would knock on the other’s door before coming in every time, without being told so. But it is a good sign that your boss had started teaching you how to behave. Better late than never, they s…”

Tetsurou couldn’t finish his sentence, because the tattooed servant grabbed him by the hem of the shirt with both hands, bursting from anger, notebook forgotten on the bed.

“You god damn toy!..”

So this was how it’d go from now on: no respect, no dignity for him. Tetsurou decided he’d better start acclimating before he broke. Anyway, some arrogant pawn didn’t have a right to treat him like that. He was here for Oikawa’s pleasure only, wasn’t he? He’s the meanest expression he could muster and crooned overly sweetly:

“But I’m _not_ _your_ toy, obviously. Let me go, or I will have to kick your ass properly. Do you think the chain could stop me from beating you? It is more than 5 meters long; I could even step out from the entrance door of the room now if I wanted to. (“To take a look at the corridor and be stopped by that chain,” the boy thought with despair). And there are cameras everywhere, y’know.”

“I fucking hate you!” the servant finally let go and took a step back.

“What for? It’s not my fault your boss didn’t train you well enough for you to control your emotions with “toys” like me. But, fuck, _my Master_ will not be glad that someone else had touched me…”

The tattooed gangster went numb after Tetsurou mentioned Oikawa. Wordlessly, he resumed his preparations on the bed, switching Skype on and starting a session. After that he left, looking freaked out from what he had done a minute before.

Tetsurou didn’t hesitate and sat down on the bed in front of the notebook. The view on the screen made his heart ache. In a room very similar to his Kenma was lying on the bed, curled up with his pillow wedged between his arms and legs. He was clearly distressed, he has probably just stopped crying. For 15 minutes straight there were no changes in the video, only Kenma’s lonely figure was shifting slightly. Finally, the blond sat up on the bed, rubbed his puffy eyes with the sleeve of his red fleece, stood up and headed to a table. The table was actually situated at the same spot, where Tetsurou had the cage in his blue painted room. “So Kenma can at least eat and write letters with comfort. But he looks so lonesome. Three days more, and Oikawa should allow me to write a letter to him.” thought Tetsurou. Kenma was doing exactly that – writing something on a white piece of A4-paper. After the blonde wrote something, he scrunched up the paper and threw it in a bin. The action was repeated several times. Kenma’s letters grew longer and longer with every try, but in the end, all of them ended up in the trash. The boy opened one of the table’s drawers and took out a piece of A4-paper with a short scribble on the top of it. The lonely hostage stood up and put the paper in a paper box on a small drawers unit beside the door. At 8 o’clock sharp somebody knocked on the door. Kenma threw a tennis ball at the door, and an elderly man in a grey suit came in. Kenma didn’t bother himself by looking at the man. He kneeled on the floor near the bin and started methodically tearing all the letters he had written to pieces.

Kuroo found himself barely breathing. He would willingly perform any crazy request from Oikawa if this could help him find out the contents of the destroyed letters. He just couldn’t stand the thought that Kenma had described his true feelings and sorrows to tear everything apart. From whom was he hiding? From Tetsurou or from Oikawa?

Kenma finished fetching the letters up and went back to the bed. There he lay facedown. The old guy, who has just stood there, addressed the blonde boy kindly:

“You wrote more than five versions today, Kozume-kun. You should have probably kept a longer version for your friend.”

Kenma visibly stiffened at these words. The next moment he curled up in a ball, shielding his eyes with his hands and sobbing uncontrollably. The man in grey suit shook his head sadly.

“Why crying? You can’t change anything now. Except for the length of your letters to that person, who is going to be Boss Oikawa’s toy for the next weeks, months or, if he is unlucky enough, years. You both are in the same situation, your families have been killed and your houses have been destroyed. But you are here, all to yourself and no one dares to touch you. Boss Oikawa made it clear, that the one who does a thing against you, will end his life in a fast and torturous way. Though we have quite a lot of … boy lovers. You know, you’re just the right type: girl-like, slender legs, tiny, with a pretty face. Consider this.”

After saying that, the elderly gangster took the letter from the paper box and went away, leaving Kenma weeping his eyes out. Another 20 minutes passed, but Kenma was still crying and whimpering on his bed. He then moved under the blanket, and the pile of sheets continued shivering and making mumbling noises.

At 8:30 p.m. the tattooed boy came back, wearing a significant bruise under his left eye. He silently closed the laptop in front of Tetsurou and took both the laptop and the tray in his hands, walked outside and left the raven-haired boy with tears streaming silently down his cheeks. “Oh, I should have done some pointed remark on his beautiful purple bruise, kinda how his boss started training him really well now”, murmured Tetsurou dragging his chain into the bathroom again. He wiped away his tears and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Is it enough that he does all he can to save and protect Kenma when his beloved one has to cry alone with nobody to comfort him and has no strength in himself to write a sincere letter to his best friend? The words of the old gangster about the “boy lovers” still ringed in Tetsurou’s ears. “I have no choice. I do what I can do. I have to continue,” chided Tetsurou himself inwardly, looking his own reflection in the eyes. A loud knock on the door startled him.

“Come in, please!” shouted Tetsurou with a hint of bitterness in his voice, approaching the entrance door.

The same tattooed servant came in, holding a phone in his hand.

“Boss Oikawa wants to talk to you.”

This was, for the lack of better words, unexpected. Tetsurou took the phone, feeling awkward and scared, but at the same time, strangely relieved that this unexpected call has distracted him from his heavy thoughts.

“I’m listening, Master.”

“My, my! Your voice is as sexy as ever! So hoarse today! I had a quick look at the cameras’ records. I’m so proud of you! You did well! I didn’t expect you to take my little advice that serious!”

“As if I had a choice,” thought Tetsurou, “You’ve made the possible consequences of my disobedience clear as fuck”.

“I always take your words seriously, Master,” he said aloud.

“Kuroo, dear! You are such a good boy today! I saw you trying to put a finger inside your arse, it was a nice view. I have about an hour before I have to go, so, please, make a little show for me. Don’t disappoint me and finish this.”

Tetsurou couldn’t help but gulp nervously.

“The passage has started so cheerfully and honeyed, but at the last sentence his voice seemed to be a kind of liquid metal”, mused Tetsurou. He imagined some sort of quicksilver running down his spine, cold and inevitable, enveloping him, devouring him. The raven-haired boy felt anxiety growing in him.

“Do I have to have the phone turned on during… the process, Master?”

“While you finger your ass? Yeah, sure! Put it in the loudspeaker mode now. Lay it on some book on the bed, so the cloth won’t muffle the speaker.”

Tetsurou did as he was told.

“Hey, Kanou!”

“Yes, Boss!”

“You’ll help Kuroo with his pants starting tomorrow. You’ll be given a set of keys to his shackle. Of course, Kuroo _won’t try anything funny_ with his chain undone.”

“Understood, Boss.”

“Leave the room and wait in front of the door. After Kuroo is finished, he will knock on the door from the inside. You will take the phone from him.”

“Consider it done, Boss!

And Kanou literally ran out of the room.

“Oh, Kuroo! We are alone now, so please, don’t be shy! I’ll help you with my precise instructions! How do you feel now, actually?”

“To be frank, Master, this is the first time I was really glad to hear your voice. It made me forget about the things you have done to me (“my family, Kenma, his family…” – he added inwardly). I was crying before you called, you should have seen that.”

 

“And Kenma was crying as well, and maybe, still is,” he thought.

 

“So perky, Kuroo! But… It is nice to see that you gained your old personality. I was so concerned, that your submission will ruin my mood.”

“Do you want me to shut my dirty mouth, Master?” smirked Tetsurou.

“No, not yet. Just follow my orders. Remove your top and take the lube. Good boy. Now, please, position yourself in front of the bed. On your knees, right, and lean with your chest on the bed for support. Take the lube, make your fingers nice and wet. What, you really want to do it with your left hand?”

“Is it wrong, Master?”

“No, this is OK. I suddenly remembered something. This stupid guy has touched you, and you let him. What should I do to Kanou? What do you think, Kuroo?”

“Didn’t the boy get a trashing already? He didn’t hurt me. I mocked him, so…”

“You feel a little bit guilty? You are too kind, Kuroo. But, anyway, though the situation was new to you, you should have dodged or hit him. Did you think I will punish you for hitting my servants?”

“I was unsure, Master.”

“You are my slave, and no one is allowed to touch you. Unless I order so, of course. And you should not surrender to anybody except for me. This rule is new to you, but you do deserve a punishment anyway.”

“Yes, Master,” Tetsurou swallowed nervously.

“Open the box with toys with your right hand and take the package with the pink clothespins. Tiny, aren’t they? I was choosing them purposefully for men’s nipples. It should be inconvenient for you since your left hand is covered in lube…Take two pins from the package. Hey, Kuroo?”

“Yes, Master?”

“It was nice to hear you calling yourself my toy in front of another person.”

Tetsurou heard cheerful laughter. Oikawa was having fun, wasn’t he?

“Kuroo, let’s finish the punishment quick. Touch your right nipple, good, rub it more, like that. And, please, turn your torso a little to the right. The camera is right above the cage, in the corner. Now tug at your left nipple, right, like that. They are both erect now, aren’t they? What a nice view you make, honey! Put a pin on your right nipple, do it slowly and carefully…”

Tetsurou knelt there near the bed, with his left hand smeared in lube and his right hand pinching his nipples, and was thinking about Kenma. As he got the last command, he took the tiny pink clothespin and squeezed his poor right nipple with it. The pain was unexpectedly sharp, and he hissed, his hand making its way back to the nipple, unconsciously intending to free it.

“No, no, Kuroo, leave it there, it’s a punishment, remember? Take the next pin and pinch your left nipple as well. Here you go! Now we can start with fingering your ass open, which was the aim of our conversation. There are only 45 minutes left. Your right hand is so naughty, please, place it behind your back and press to the left shoulder blade. It is not very convenient, I know, stop pouting. So, today I do feel generous. You are allowed to come whenever you want to. The same goes for the whole period of my absence. But as I return, touching yourself, masturbating and, certainly, _coming_ without my permission is strictly prohibited. And for now, put on a good show for your Master!”

Tetsurou tried to inhale and exhale slowly as if this could help him relax. The whole thing felt weird, the nipple clamps were more painful than he expected them to be, Oikawa was persistent and annoying. And now he finally had to abuse his own asshole with his own fucking fingers. Oikawa’s voice from the phone continued giving orders, about massaging the rim, sliding circles at the hole, starting to push one of the slick fingers of the left hand past the tight muscle. The raven-haired boy did as he was told. If everything continued like this, he would throw up directly on his new convenient bed. This would be a great show, from all points of view. But then suddenly a blissful idea sprang to Tetsurou’s mind. He’s never had problems with his imagination, right? If he just imagined, that Kenma was in love with him, that it was Kenma, who wanted Tetsurou to submit to him; that the orders came from Kenma’s precious thin lips, that the hand, pressing on his left shoulder blade, was Kenma’s, and the finger pressing at his entrance, was Kenma’s as well. Because if that was what Kenma wanted to do to him, then let it be. Nausea vanished, and arousal took its place instead. It’s not that Tetsurou had pictured sex with Kenma every time he went to bed back in his normal life. But the idea of fantasizing about his childhood friend was by no means new to him.

The rest of the hour passed in a blur. First, when he was fucking himself with one finger, it felt really awkward and brought him no pleasure at all. But the image of Kenma guiding him helped a lot.

… _Kenma was sitting on the floor behind Tetsurou’s back, one hand at his shoulder blade, the other, slick and deft, at his entrance. Kenma’s golden eyes watched the black haired boy intently, focusing on his reactions to every operation the blonde boy performed with his slender fingers. For a brief moment, the hand on his back moved to his nipples, which were already numb from the pressure, and slowly freed them from the clamps one by one. Removing of the clothespins caused a rush of blood to the previously squeezed areas, and the moment of unpinning was far worse than the whole time spent with the clamps pinned. But Kenma rubbed the sore areas gingerly, soothing the pain each time he took the clothespins away. Gentle touches of Kenma’s digits made Tetsurou moan slightly, and his member started to twitch. The fingerfucking continued all the way, and the feeling of being stretched open started to turn into a welcome experience. “Good boy”, Kenma’s praise aroused Tetsurou even more. His dick was half-hard now, and Kenma noticed it as well. He took Tetsurou’s member in his small skilled hand and started pumping, first slowly, fastening the speed with each stroke. The fingering continued as well, the black haired boy whimpering and moaning, Kenma’s actions turning him into a puddle. On one blissful occasion, Kenma’s finger trailed over a particular spot in him, which offered a different level of pleasure. Tetsurou’s moans grew louder and more desperate, as Kenma quickened the pace and thrust his fingers rhythmically into the tightness of the elder boy’s ass, hitting his prostate with every inward motion. At some point, the tension in Tetsurou’s groin grew too much to be bearable. But he somehow couldn’t reach the release, staying on the edge in between of pain and pleasure, new sensations overwhelming, but not enough to let him finally come. Tetsurou couldn’t say, how long he had starved for his orgasm, before a familiar steady voice called to him: “Come, Kuroo, it’s time for you to come.”_

And then Tetsurou was coming indeed, hard and powerful, as never before. His breathing seized and the body was shaking violently. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the picture of Kenma petting him and bringing him high in his vision.

Oikawa’s amused exclamations brought his hostage back to reality. Falling from height was annihilating for Tetsurou: a second before he was in his beloved’s hands and at his mercy, even if it was in his imagination only; now he was facing the horrible truth. He was alone in the room with sky-blue walls, the chain in place, holding his ankle tight, his right hand covered in his sperm, his left hand – in lube, the nipples still red and sore from the treatment earlier, his _Master_ satisfied on the other side of the camera.

“Wow, Tetsurou! I was hoping to have some fun here, but you have surpassed all my expectations!”

“Did you like the show, Master?” Tetsurou grinned lazily at the camera, bitter thoughts gnawing at him from the inside. Rejoice, Oikawa, how lucky you were. It was a real high-class drama, starring Tetsurou-the-Uke and Kenma-the-Seme at the stage of The Kuroo’s Subconscious Theatre! A one-night stand in your Sin City! “Somebody, please, switch my head off, I can’t stop this train of thoughts myself!..”

“Yes, I most certainly did! You were gorgeous like that! I will treat you as a good boy when I am back. So, it’s time for me to go. I’m late already; your game took 20 minutes longer than I’ve planned. Damn, Iwa-chan is going to rip me apart alive.”

At this very moment, Oikawa hung up. Tetsurou let himself fall to the floor, which was already wet with the lube and his come. He had to give the phone back to the servant, but he was naked and his hands were dirty… Even the fucking chain was covered in slick where its links happened to be under his ass during the “drama”. Oikawa told him to give the phone back when he was ready, right? Tetsurou stood up and went to the bathroom, washed his hands and cleaned his sticky belly and groin with a wet towel. Then he returned to the bed, took the phone and knocked on the door. The tattooed guy opened immediately. He had now two matching bruises under his eyes. The guy hiccupped at the view of Tetsurou’s sculpted figure, now completely exposed and not entirely free from the traces of Oikawa’s game. He took the phone in his hand nevertheless, the raven-haired boy smirking at him before pulling the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tetsurou tried to be creative in this one!
> 
> I'm glad you were here with me during this conversation!  
> Please, leave comments, tell me, whether you liked it or not! I would appreciate any opinions told!


	4. The Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo tries to perform the task received from Oikawa properly and fight his fears at the same time.

**_Allocate your sentiment, and stick it in a box._ **

**_I've never been an extrovert, but I’m still breathing._ **

****

**_(Placebo -  36 Degrees)_ **

 

If there was such a thing as a restless night then that was what Tetsurou was experiencing now. After having masturbated following Oikawa’s instructions while imagining Kenma in his head, Kuroo doubted his own mental stability. He hasn’t decided yet, what was worse: being Oikawa’s obedient slave or using Kenma’s image from his memories as a remedy for release.

Anyway, Tetsurou felt dirty. Standing in the shower under the hot water streams, he closed his eyes from exhaustion and immediately opened them again, frightened by what his imagination threw on him, panting and leaning against the wall for support. As soon as his eyelids closed, the water seemed to evolve into some liquid mud, falling from the ceiling and covering Tetsurou from head to toes, denying him his breath and his awareness of reality. Tetsurou turned the water off and made himself take a deep inhale. He was not allowed to break then and there; Kenma’s life was depending on his will to survive. So Tetsurou waited, until his breathing evened, his fantasy stilled, his heartbeat came back to normal, and stepped out from the shower. The wet boy opened the drawer with the clock; it was 10:30 p.m. Time to call it a night, Tetsurou thought. Tetsurou went into the main room, the ugly stupid chain straining after him with every step, its weight on his ankle reminding the prisoner of his position. The room was clean, bright as a new pin, no mess on the floor, no body fluids on the bedsheets, and no stray sex toys on the rug. How nice of them to take care of me properly, the boy mused. Tetsurou turned the lights off and went straight to bed. He fell asleep the same moment his head hit the pillow and slept dreamless.

 

The black haired sufferer woke up at 8:30 a.m., as the familiar servant brought him a tray with food. The servant wore a wrist watch with quite large green digits, utterly convenient.

“I knocked at the door, but there was no answer,” was what the tattooed mobster said.

“Hey, Kanou! How are you doing?” Tetsurou smirked from under his bedhead, still holding onto his pillow. “You look a bit sad tonight; you are not a morning person, are you?”

The conversation was finished quickly, as Kanou put the tray onto the floor near the bed and left, slamming the door behind him, albeit it didn’t make any loud sound as Kanou most definitely wished, solid, maintained and well-oiled as it was. Today Tetsurou had some cereal, an apple and a big toast for breakfast. He took the tray to his bed and ate, sitting comfortably against his pillow. His mood, as always in the morning, was excellent. He couldn’t make himself think about all their trouble. Not now, when the sun shines so bright. Hello clouds, hello sky, hello birds… Were there any birds at all? Did he even try to look out from the window? The raven-haired boy decided to do so just after the breakfast, but his simple plan was destroyed by the tattooed servant, who came in (after knocking three times at the door, though not waiting for the answer) with another tray in his hands; obviously, it was the call-time. His day starts exceptionally well! Now he gets to see Kenma again!

His joy didn’t last long. From the look of it, Kenma has woken up just as the Skype session started. Tetsurou was startled to see, how red and puffy the blonde’s eyes were, as if he hadn’t get a wink of sleep during the whole night. Kenma went to the table, ate his breakfast without looking at the dish, went short to the bathroom and came back to lie on his bed. He was lying there on his back, alone, tiny and frail, his eyes shut and his facial expression similar to a porcelain doll’s. Kenma had never been an emotional person, but his friend has never seen Kenma look so pale and blank before. The hostage spent about half an hour, just lying there with his eyes closed, not moving, not changing his mimics. And then… There were tears, falling down his cheeks from under the lidded eyes. Not many, but the strains were clearly visible. Kenma shed his tears silently, not bothering himself with sobbing or wiping the dampness from his face. As Tetsurou had 5 more minutes to go, the younger boy’s eyes opened in a slow motion and he looked up, right into the camera. To Tetsurou it was like his beloved one was looking him right in the eyes. He froze at his spot on the bed. The blonde smiled with his lips only and showed a middle finger to the camera before shifting to his side and curling himself around the blanket. Tetsurou shuddered from surprise.

“Oh wow, this is actually the first time he flipped me the bird!” said Tetsurou more to himself, than to Kanou, as the latter came in to take away the laptop.

“Your cheeks are damp, you silly smirking cat,” the servant observed with a sort of vengeful satisfaction before exiting.

“Right you are, boy…” muttered Tetsurou to no one in particular.

He should be glad, shouldn’t he? Kenma was at least angry at the situation, he was not broken… yet? Or..? The black haired boy felt bewildered at that sudden gesture, but… Now he felt less pity towards his school friend. No…he didn’t feel any pity at all. Kenma will survive; they will both survive and won’t let the criminals wreck them. Tetsurou slipped to the floor and took his messy head in his hands. So he sat there with a handful of pleasant and oh-not-so-pleasant thoughts.

Tetsurou thought about Oikawa coming back in two days. The happy reunion of Master and his slave will happen sooner than he apprehends. His time seems to pass by slowly, but the boss’s return will seem unexpected in any case. He still had this weird task of preparing his ass for Oikawa’s dick ahead. And Tetsurou was determined to perform the task properly. If his own fingers stretched his poor asshole so violently, what would his Master’s member do to him? Better follow one good piece of advice, albeit coming from Oikawa’s rotten mouth.

There was the same psychological problem with fingering himself as before, though. As soon as Tetsurou made all the preparations, positioned himself on the bed and started to massage the rim, he felt the familiar sickness down his stomach. The nausea came back and didn’t subside until he stopped in his movements. Tetsurou didn’t know what the reason of his queasiness was: his fear of Oikawa and his might over him and Kenma, him being in terror of his own life, or the horrid situation on its own. Everything around him just felt so wrong. He made another attempt and really had to run for the bathroom to vomit. After he cleaned his face and took several gulps of water from one of the bottles, he went to the window and just stared. He intended to observe his surroundings, didn’t he? As he could see, his room was situated on the fourth floor of some industrial building. Across from it lay another building, lower but longer. Looked like all premises were situated on the territory of an abandoned factory. Whereon the long workshop (previous production department, maybe?) ended, the trees lifted their heads up, forming a dark-green forest, which, in its turn, hugged the foothills of some distant grey mountains. Where was Kenma’s room? His Skype sessions didn’t provide a precise answer. The younger boy’s room was as sunny as Tetsurou’s, they were probably both facing south. But, anyway, Kenma’s window was still facing the industrial workshops or the forest. And the sky was to see as well. Tetsurou was glad, that Kenma could see the sky. Oikawa was an ass enough to keep Tetsurou’s beloved one in a room without windows. It would be still safe, and not a reason for Tetsurou to start complaining. But he had a cell with a window and a not ugly view. Not bad at all in the given circumstances, huh?

 

After standing by the window motionless until his back muscles felt tense, Tetsurou returned to his task. He decided to repeat his trick of earlier and to pretend, that he was having sexual activities with Kenma. And everything went well. He sat down on the rug near his bed, spread his legs wide, closed his eyes, and started to finger his puckered rim with lube slicked fingers. Kenma in his head was smiling devilishly down at him, holding his shoulder, squeezing it, kissing Tetsurou’s forehead while murmuring praises into his ears… Deft fingers pushed inside and pulled out with wet pops, Tetsurou felt his orgasm building, felt heat low in his guts…At last, he gave his previously neglected cock a few firm strokes and came all over the floor. The boy panted hard and had to remain still for good ten minutes before standing up and going to the bathroom. There he suddenly felt horny and got himself off as he had done it before everything had started, without using his ass. Unexpectedly, there was not much difference, because he still imagined Kenma while pleasuring himself. It was clear to him now, that he was masturbating with Kenma’s image at the back of his mind since the university started. He had just pretended that his turn-on source was some faceless slender boy, always short and blonde…

Tetsurou knew he was gay since the high school started. And he knew that Kenma was aware of it as well. Moreover, he was sure, that Kenma was as gay as him, but his best friend didn’t like talking about such private matters. He was not much of a talker at all, to be true. But… though the blonde always pretended to be annoyed by Tetsurou’s shenanigans, the black-haired boy knew full well, that Kenma felt at ease in his presence and appreciated the care the older neighbour was giving him. Tetsurou’s tell-tale tongue protected the shy and introverted boy from unneeded attention. And… the raven was sure, Kenma listened attentively to him, when it was worth it when Tetsurou spoke sincerely and earnest. How did Kenma notice the change in Tetsurou’s never-ending bubbling in the first place? Tetsurou was perfectly aware that he could jump from jokes to serious matters and backwards within a minute, but every time he was speaking in all honesty, Kenma’s golden eyes followed him and the small boy listened whole-heartedly. When they were alone, Kenma made reasonable comments to the monologues Tetsurou exclaimed during the day. His observations were always true to every detail. And he didn’t forget Tetsurou’s real thoughts and worries, ready to be there for him, silent, but supporting, fragile, but unrelenting when it came to protecting Tetsurou’s interests. Having Tetsurou’s back.

Standing in front of the mirror in his tiny bathroom, Tetsurou recalled the long talk with his mother they had in the middle of his second year of high school. His mother has always been a very caring and loving person. Tetsurou has thought, he could rely on her…

 

 

 

“What are you talking about? Do you really mean it? I can’t believe it… You were always so good – a show pupil in the class, a sportsman evoking expectations, my dear son”, his mother was speaking through tears, leaning with her elbows on the wooden table in their sunlit kitchen.

“Mom, these things didn’t change. I’m still your son; I love you so much and care for you… I’ve neither become a weaker middle blocker, nor am I receiving bad marks at school. Stop saying those things, I beg you…“ and the sixteen-year-old Tetsurou tried to take her smaller hands in his, but she drew her hands to her chest and pressed them against her left collarbone, right above the heart. The gesture looked defensive. It hurt even more than the harsh words. Was there any way to turn everything back? His sudden coming-out ruined more than just one weekend. It wrecked his life.

“Can I at least stay in this house until the end of the year?” said the boy coldly. His sudden change of tone left his mother breathless. She stared at him wide-eyed, her cheeks stained with the many tears shed, facial expression full of terror and… pity? Does she thinks he is pitiful being gay? Oh, really? A future captain of the school volleyball team and a biology nerd, whose grades were great as ever, started to be piteous after opening his sexuality? This was too much even for Tetsurou’s patience. And he was extremely patient… The black haired high-schooler stood up from the table and headed to the door.

His mother was shouting at him, but he didn’t care anymore and didn’t pay attention to her words at all. Just in front of the door, he had to stop abruptly: there was a certain someone sitting on the floor, leaning with his back on the entrance door. Kenma had a spare key and didn’t bother himself with knocking or calling before his visit. He was at home here, just as Tetsurou was in Kenma’s house.

“Tetsurou, please, go to your room upstairs. Don’t argue with me too for good measure, OK?” said his short blonde friend firmly, not looking him in the eyes. “Please?” Kenma repeated in a pleading tone, lifting his head slightly.

The raven-haired paused for a moment, and then he plunged out of the living room to run upstairs. There he sat on the floor beside his bed, shut his eyes and … recalled his father’s words about some actor, an open gay: “Giving his butt to men as a replacement of a woman’s vagina? Disgusting!” The last word ringed in Tetsurou’s ears, repeating and repeating with no end. He covered his ears with his palms, but the words didn’t subside; the middle blocker was suffocating, a strange nausea started to devour him… But suddenly every bad feeling, every torturing reminiscence was gone; familiar cold slender fingers were caressing his forehead, patting his messy hair, cupping his giant hands. Tetsurou had the heart to open his eyes. It was Kenma indeed. Tired, exhausted, angry Kenma, who was willing to take care of him.

“Collect your belongings, I’m inviting you to a sleepover. Take two pairs of socks and underwear.”

Tetsurou stood up like a robot and did as he was told. As he stood with his duffle bag in front of his closet, ready to go, but falling in his tragic mood again and not moving, Kenma grabbed his hand and pulled him downstairs, to the door, let them both put their shoes on, pulled him further until they were both settled on Kenma’s bed, Tetsurou with a cup of tea and Kenma with his gamepad.

Kenma has played for two hours straight, without talking or looking up from the console. His elder friend was silent as well. At some point, Kenma sat up and pushed Tetsurou’s shoulder with his palm. The raven-haired boy, who was staring at a mysterious spot on the wall, flinched and looked at the younger.

“Hey-hey, what’s up?” Tetsurou definitely failed to smile.

“I talked to your mother. And to my mother. I’ve told your mother what she needs to know about you. Aunty is very traditional. She had dreamt of a big family for her son. And so on, and so forth. I’ve just explained, that she had once chosen her lifestyle, so can you now. Her dreams are not a guidance for you.”

Kenma sighed, feeling tired from his unusual long speeches today.

“Why did we come here? Did she say she wants to disown me?”

“No, she didn’t say a word about that. It was me, who told her, that she has two days to make a decision. If she doesn’t cherish what she has, she has not deserved to have such a wonderful son like you.”

Tetsurou watched the calm expression on his best friend’s face, stunned and disbelieving. The cold tone of his speech was not matching with the piercing look of Kenma’s eyes.

“My mom was surprised to learn about this situation. She was not expecting your mother to be that…old-fashioned. So she told me you can stay with us until graduation if necessary. Don’t argue. Don’t say anything. I’ve had enough with Aunty today.”

And Kenma resumed his game. Tetsurou could only stare in amazement at his quiet saviour and protector. The raven-haired boy stayed at Kozume’s for two days, with his parents constantly asking about him and worrying. Then he came back to his house, had another long talk with both his parents this time and the matter was solved to the beginning of his third year of high-school…

Tetsurou’s relationships with his family stayed excellent before the incident with mafia. At the days after his coming-out he refused to think of how his life would be, if not for Kenma. He was so proud and stubborn back then, he could’ve easily tried and ruined his connection to his family. If he still had to become Oikawa’s toy like in this variant of his destiny, he would not have had even these 5 years with his family alive. “I’m not crying. No, I’m not. F-fuck,” and Tetsurou smiled in defeat. His teary face in the mirror looked beaten.

It was 11 a.m. already. Time flew by so fast when he had his flashbacks.

Tetsurou went back to his bedroom (oh, this should be defined as pathetic, to call his prison cell a bedroom!) and chose some more books to read. The sex guidances were now clearer to him. He did at least understand what they were talking about. The BL-manga he had fished out from the shelves today was a comedic one. Tetsurou associated himself with one of the characters; it was a handsome guy, popular at school, sporty (though he played baseball, not volleyball), nerdy and … just so gay. And he was in love with his best friend for a while. Without confessing to him, of course. Their story had a happy ending, the two friends experiencing trouble but never failing to trust each other.

At 1 p.m. he had his lunch, uneventful. After that he resumed his reading. He read through theory and fantasy of men having sex with men, feeling less and less awkward. At about 2 p.m. he took a look at the toys he had in the transparent box No.2. He decided to try the smallest vibrator out. The already well-known nausea greeted him eagerly at the mere thought of putting it in; but now Tetsurou was aware of the source of his strange body reactions: his father’s words about gays being _disgusting_. Tetsurou didn’t consider himself disgusting; he couldn’t say this word about his feelings towards Kenma as well. There was nothing to be grossed out about. Oikawa was disgusting, but not because he was gay, but because he was a gangster, a rapist and a fucking asshole. Considering this, he was not obliged to vomit every time he tried something more complicated than stroking his dick off. Tetsurou slicked his fingers and the small orange vibrator with lube, fighting the dizziness and urge to go to the toilet and vomit. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and slowly putting the toy inside him; it went inside easily, thanks to the previous excessive treatment of his poor hole. By the way, his entrance felt sore. Had he overdone? As the vibrator was fully in, only the slim chain hanging on the outside, Tetsurou made himself relax. He sat on the bed for a while, all in a business-like state of mind. The grotesqueness of the situation didn’t weigh him down any more. As he had calmed his nerves he had to stand up and take the remote from the box No.2. Moving with the sex toy inside his anus was uncustomary. But… he was about to make himself feel good, wasn’t he? The raven-haired boy lay on the bed on his back and started to pick the speeds: first, second, third… The sensations were new to him, but not really unpleasant. Tetsurou stilled the settings to the first speed again and made his way to the bathroom. The damned shackle around his ankle was anything but gone, the chain he had to drag with every step clinked against the marble floor of the bathroom; and being chained was really disgusting to the tall boy. He could deal with it, though.

Tetsurou put the vibrator’s speed back on the third level, then used the maximum level – the fourth. He positioned himself in the shower and started to pump his cock, ready to go all the way to his climax. The tension was growing, heat in his insides boiling until he came in short hard spurts and marked the white wall of the shower stall.

The rest of the day was uneventful. After Tetsurou had had some rest, he made some push-ups and other exercises. The well-known routine helped him to erase everything from his mind and to concentrate on the feeling of his muscles working; not being helpless and dependant at least for this short time of drilling. “I should include exercises into my daily schedule. It would be good if Kenma did so as well” Tetsurou thought, getting sad again. When he would have his chance to write a letter to Kenma, he should mention it.

After the small training, he read some mangas, stared from the window on the neighbouring building, even slept for half an hour. He wondered whether he should continue working on Oikawa’s “important little task”, but dismissed the idea: his stretched asshole seemed to be red and puffy, though he had used some aftercare fluid from the box No.2.

At 6 p.m. the food was brought again, this time with a letter from Kenma. Tetsurou was so eager to see the contents and to read the letter finally, that he forgot about the food on the tray completely. He didn’t even speak to the tattooed mafia boy, muttered “Thank you!” and started devouring line after line of what seemed to be the longest written message he ever got from Kenma.

 

_Hi Kuroo,_

_It is still strange to me to write you letters, and on paper, on top of it. This is weird._

_Everything is weird. The room, the fucking necklace, the cameras (I found four, and you?), the guy, who brings me food. So, so weird. I can’t stop crying, just like when I had been depressed in middle school._

_I didn’t have any other relatives, except for my mother and my uncle. Who came for a visit to Tokyo on that day, and not earlier or later. I don’t have anyone in this world to rely upon. Except for you, Kuroo._

_I couldn’t bring myself to writing a letter because I don’t want_ him _to read it aloud to you in some silly way or in his sing-song manner. I don’t want_ him _or anybody else to read my letters. But… As I know, your situation is not much better. And it was heartless of me to write those pitiful little notes instead of real letters to you. I’m sorry._

_I miss you. They told me you will write me a letter once a week. So you better write a long one, Kuroo Tetsurou!_

_There are so many strange books in my room. I wonder whether you have any books. Have you read “The Collector” by John Fowles? You better not, actually. There’s a crazy boy, who kidnaps a beautiful girl and she dies in the cellar of his house. He collected butterflies in his spare time and after the girl died he wants another one. I really hate the choice of books on my shelves._

_I’m so tired. I can’t think straight; I eat, read and sleep. And cry in between or simultaneously._

_Be careful. I know you’re smart, but also foolish. Remember that stupid day when you tried to break your spine by falling from a tree? So silly, Kuroo, so reckless. I thought I would die back then when you collapsed on the chair in your hall. I had just started to get used to you a little at the time, and you decided to perish right away? You made me sooo mad. And after that, I got even madder when I had to talk to the doctor, to your mom, to my mom, to some neighbours…I had to stay at home for three days and almost didn’t talk to my mom just to refill half of my energy resources. Guess whose fault was that? I didn’t scold you when you came to thank me only because of the apple pie Auntie made for us. Not because I was shy and lazy._

_I will not reread this; otherwise, my manuscript will be in the trash bin with its ancestors._

_Bye, Kuroo_

_P.S. I do hate my medicine studies but if I could choose between staying here and studying without breaks for 5 years I would prefer the latter._

“Oya-oya, I would do the same, kitten, for ten or more years, at several faculties at the same time when necessary,” thought Tetsurou, sighing fondly and starting to eat his cold pasta.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trash today, sorry!
> 
> I thought Oikawa-san will return in the end of the Chapter, but Tetsurou's past was too interesting for me and I had no more place for Oi!
> 
> Please, leave kudos and comments! ^_^ I would be so-so happy!


	5. The Happy Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the seventh day of Tetsurou's "big adventure" Oikawa comes back to the quarters and has his fun with the poor beautiful student. It begins innocent but evolves into some dark nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody!
> 
> The chapter below is full of trash, violence and suffering! Don't tell me I didn't warn you)))  
> I finally, finally managed to start with the actual smut))) hehe  
> So, I always wanted to quote some fanfiction authors from here (don't know their names anymore, unfortunately):  
> 1\. I accept my rightful place in the trash bin.  
> 2\. My grandma would disown me.
> 
> Hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

**_The only thing you can rely on is that you can't rely on anything_ **

**_Don't go and sell your soul for self-esteem_ **

**_Don't be plasticine_ **

****

**_Don't forget to be the way you are_ **

****

**_(Placebo -  Plasticine)_ **

****

****

It was the sixth day of Tetsurou’s imprisonment. The surroundings were more than familiar by that time; even the shackle on the ankle didn’t feel foreign any more. Today the raven-haired prisoner got his breakfast at 8 a.m., earlier than usual. After that, he did his common reading, exercising and exploring the treasures of the box No.2. Tetsurou was wearing red trousers and a matching red and black t-shirt. “As if Oikawa really did like my school sports uniform”, - mused Tetsurou every time he was choosing a new set of clothes, as the insides of the box No.1 were mostly red and black. The only problem was the raven-haired needed Kanou’s help with the chain every time he wanted to put pants on or strip it off. The servant had to come and detach the chain from the shackle to clip it back after Tetsurou was ready with his costume. To say that Kanou didn’t appreciate this particular task would’ve been an understatement. Tetsurou’s teasing didn’t help in the slightest, of course.

Despite the damned chain and the half-discarded pants getting in the way, Tetsurou’s “butt stretching mission” went particularly well today, since he had managed to use a really odd violet dildo and successfully prevented vomiting. If there was something the prisoner understood thanks to his captivity, it was the importance of keeping yourself busy. Otherwise, your thoughts would come and try to drown you. Today, for example, the former middle-blocker had a particularly hard time before lunch, because his subconscious proclaimed a war upon his composure and offered different embarrassing ideas one after another. The hit-list made:

  * Thought No.1: What if Kenma will never love me back?
  * Thought No.2: What if Kenma would fall in love with Oikawa and get killed by a jealous Iwaizumi?
  * Thought No.3: What if Oikawa secretly violates Kenma (against the agreement between Oikawa and Kuroo!)?
  * Thought No.4: What if Oikawa secretly has sex with Kenma and they both like it?
  * Thought No.5: What if they all were really in a "Matrix"-like simulation?
  * Thought No.6: What if Kenma wanted to have sex with Kuroo, but not as a bottom? (That thought getting real would be not a problem at all, actually)
  * Thought No.7: What if Kenma wouldn’t want to have sex with Kuroo either as uke or as seme after Oikawa had deflowered Tetsurou’s ass?



The fifth one – mark it as definitely impossible.

 

At 1 p.m. he got a big bowl of hot chicken soup and an even longer letter from Kenma. His blonde friend had a lot of complaints, mostly about the books in his room. And the old console games, all of them ancient and played over and over again at least ten times. And the collar. The fucking iron collar unnerved Kenma, it made him feel suffocated; no marvel that his dearest kitten wanted to feel free again so much. Tetsurou thought at that, that he probably was lucky not to wear his own collar for a while; there again, Kenma didn’t have anything to compare his collar with, unlike him who had this damn ankle shackle. The letter from his childhood friend was really long this time but it seemed to end so suddenly. But in the finish lines, Kenma had written again: “ _I miss you, Kuroo. Be wise._ ” – and Tetsurou’s heart started to rip out from the rib cage. Apparently, these letters were the best thing he experienced in his dungeon so far.

Then, at about 1:45 p.m. Kanou brought the laptop for the usual one-sided chat session, and Tetsurou could watch Kenma acting normally, and enjoy the picture. His beloved one was reading, then staring out of the window, then writing something on the sheets of A4 paper, but not throwing them away anymore, instead, he had a neat pile of papers on his table. The hour the raven-haired boy had to spend in front of the screen passed in a wink, and it was already time to give the laptop away. Tetsurou smirked to Kanou devilishly, making the tattooed servant curse and storm out of the room with a hypersonic speed. The poor servant couldn’t get used to Tetsurou’s antics yet.

The next thing Tetsurou did that day was a weird experiment. As he chose to be biology major in the university ten thousand years ago, he wanted to be a scientist, right? Tests, trials, experiments – these things give life to science! Ha-ha. As if trying out the anal beads could be considered an object adequate studying. Anyway, what about the test arrangements? First off, Tetsurou himself had to be a laboratory guinea-pig. Second, nobody was taking notes about the starting conditions, nobody measured his asshole’s diameter before and after, for example. This can’t be called an experiment even by a long stretch of the imagination. Silly mind tricks of a lost soul. Not to mention that the scientist had failed miserably: Tetsurou decided upon not using fantasies of Kenma to arouse himself and didn’t receive any pleasure in process at all. But! It was worth it at least because Tetsurou has overcome his nausea one more time. “I do not consider myself disgusting at all!” he told himself in the shower, “But this is the exact word to picture these fucking beads!” And the black haired squirmed uncomfortably at the memory of the sex toy up his hole. He can only hope that Oikawa won’t use those round items in their games.

His sixth day of imprisonment went by: Tetsurou read BL manga from the shelves, fell asleep at 5 p.m. while composing a letter to Kenma (Kanou has brought him a stack of white paper and a pen), had his dinner at 6 p.m., did some sports activities at 7:30 p.m. He allowed himself to masturbate before going to sleep, freely fantasizing about his best friend. This time the blonde boy in Tetsurou’s imagination was sucking his elder partner off, kneeling in front of Tetsurou and looking him up at him with lust-filled eyes.

The seventh day started innocent and conventional. He was woken up by his personal waiter, got cereal and a banana, then went to the window and stared. The sun was high in the sky; the distant trees extended their branches up and up, as if they were reaching for the fleecy clouds to hug them. So peaceful the view, and so more uneasy Tetsurou felt because of the light-heartedness of the nature enclosing the old factory. As if something sinister hid there, in the ethereal blueness of the sky and the whiteness of the clouds; unnoticeable, light and deadly dangerous. The boy shook his head; his imagination seemed to get crazier every day. Everything should be OK; he will act according to Oikawa’s will, he will be obedient for his and Kenma’s sake, and everything will work out just fine.

It was 11 a.m., when the entrance door opened silently and somebody stepped in. Tetsurou was surprised at the sound of steps; Kanou had never brought him lunch so early, nor did he bring him letters apart from his usual meals. The raven turned and froze on the spot: his gaze was met with one of the brightest and sunniest smiles he had ever seen; Oikawa in person stood there, winking and holding his slender hands out as if he wanted his slave to come closer for a hug. Tetsurou wanted to great him, but then he remembered, that he was not allowed to speak first to his Master. Should he bow or fall to his knees? The pause ran over, until the impatient gangster broke the silence with a cheery exclamation:

“Come here, Kuroo! Your Master has missed you!” whereafter Tetsurou indeed stepped closer and was genuinely hugged. It felt warm and, unexpectedly, safe to be close to Oikawa like that. After 10 seconds of holding their embrace, Oikawa let his prisoner go and smiled again, his chocolate brown eyes studying Tetsurou’s reactions attentively. The handsome man had probably finished his latest mission not long ago as he still wore a black turtleneck, simple dark blue jeans and a black waistcoat with a lot of pockets. Not Oikawa-style entirely. He was dressed as Tetsurou’s father would before he was going to go fishing.

“Kuroo, why so quiet? Don’t you want to greet me as well?”

“I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t know whether I was allowed to speak or not yet. I’m glad you are back now.”

“Felt lonely, huh? I watched the videos of your daily routine; you tried to prepare yourself thoroughly, I’m happy that I don’t have to punish you for disobeying. You even did some exercises, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Master, I’ve practised some easy ones.”

“Good for you! And for me, I suppose. I have to go to my room now, because I’ve only arrived recently, then I have a meeting with Iwaizumi (I still owe him two wishes, you know) and then…I will shower you with my full and undivided attention!”

“Thank you, Master, for taking care of me,” and Tetsurou smirked very lightly.

With that Oikawa was gone, leaving Tetsurou in a brown study. As the tall boy has expected, he could have prepared his body for “boy love” but he couldn’t have prepared his mind for dealing with Oikawa. What was his given name, by the way? He didn’t even know such a simple default thing about his so-called “Master”. All he knew was that he was under the gangster’s thumb without a chance to escape. Would he try to run away if Kenma was not a hostage kept somewhere? He definitely would be eager to try it; it had been really lucky for Oikawa to let Kenma live if he didn’t want to tame Tetsurou like a big wild cat. The raven-haired prisoner would rather starve himself to death than surrender, if it was for himself and not for the person he loved. The boy just knew: if he would have lost his best friend and (simultaneously) love of his life at the same night as he had lost his parents, he wouldn’t have any willpower to hold on for dear life; he would’ve turned into a walking corpse, which was anything but a toy Oikawa could revel.

“I am a human being, not a toy,” the ex-middle blocker told himself, “I am not a toy, though I will ley Oikawa play with my body and my feelings; I give him the permission to use me for his own pleasure, but I refuse to give up on my dignity and my inner pride. I will survive the ordeal he is willing to put me through and stay myself, for Kenma, myself and to spite Oikawa.” Tetsurou imagined all the good things he had had in life; he recalled the memories of his captaincy in the volleyball club at school, Kenma as his closest friend and his setter, always by his side; the sunny days under the trees in his yard spent with a book in his hands and a console in Kenma’s; their calm and quiet evenings at Kenma’s place when they could stay awake without even speaking till late in the night, fully content with each other and the silence; his mother’s cooking and his father’s rude, but funny jokes; his hard times at the university when he had to study like mad and the feeling of gratification as it all paid off in good grades and respect from the professors. Tetsurou had been a happy person indeed before the incident, and he absolutely rejected the idea of giving up now, albeit there was no hope for an easy escape for him and Kenma. The black haired boy took all his lightsome and unstained inner treasures and placed them deep inside of his consciousness where it was safe and beyond reach from outside; Tetsurou sealed them there to spare till things would go better for him and his loved one. When the happy day comes, he and Kenma will unseal the gem box and cherish it together.

Time went by, the lunch has passed, the dinner has been devoured, and the exercises have been done. It was 10 p.m. already, and Tetsurou started to feel sleepy, though he didn’t have the guts to go to sleep before Oikawa’s visit. So he sat on the bed with a pile of mangas (he even had a favourite author now – Ogawa Chise; his Master had a good influence on his artistic taste, didn’t he?) and fell asleep while reading the “Gosan no Heart”. The raven woke up at the feeling of someone’s hands on his hips. His amber eyes opened up to be caught by a predatory gaze of chocolate brown ones. The prisoner startled, moved back to the wall and whispered: “Hello Master”.

The game started.

Oikawa was talking endlessly. His words flew and spun like a whirlpool, wrapping his captive up like a spider web. Tetsurou tried hard to not disappoint the moody brunette. The gangster took the chain off his leg and undressed the taller boy slowly, caressing his collarbones, his hips, his belly button, touching his nipples lightly. After the black haired was fully naked, he was forced to wear a bandage on his eyes and was left in darkness alone, with words and traces of Oikawa’s hands on his body only. As on reflex, the younger imagined Kenma being the person to hold him now; that was his biggest mistake so far. The faint murmur of “Kenma” left Tetsurou’s lips, and immediately the verbal torrents from Oikawa’s mouth stopped. The atmosphere in the room changed drastically. The feeling of a web enveloping him was displaced with a feeling of wire strands strangling him. Immediately a hand came to his hair and pulled harshly, making Tetsurou yelp:

“Oh-oh, somebody was caught red-handed. Were you thinking of him while I was the one who touched your body? How did you dare to betray your Master like that?”

“Master, I…”

“Don’t you dare to interrupt me, you little shit!” Oikawa’s voice was hissing and harsh, his breath burning hot against the younger one’s neck, and Tetsurou felt unpleasant chills running down his spine. He messed up, he really didn’t think of such a possibility – to let Kenma’s name fall from his lips like that.

“You know what? I thought this could be nice for both you and me. But I was wrong. How silly of me! But be sure, Kuroo, I will make you remember who controls you and who has the exclusive rights to hold you. _I_ am the one to occupy your thoughts, not him.” Oikawa was speaking in a low voice now, seductive and deadly-dangerous at the same time. Lying on the bed without any restraints, but unable to move because of his promise to surrender to the elder gangster; being the more muscular one from the two, the taller one at that, but not daring to rebel against Oikawa even in a slightest movement of his body; strong, but helpless, Tetsurou felt like a rabbit caught by a fox.

“Kuroo, you know what? I will definitely have to punish you. Your first punishment was a very easy one, especially in comparison to what will happen to you now.”

Something round was shoved into Tetsurou’s mouth, and straps were clipped together behind his nape. “A ball gag?”- the captive figured out. The action stopped for a minute, the sound of a box coming open and toys being rummaged around. And then Tetsurou was pulled onto the floor, face down on the rug, and his Master was tying up his arms behind his back.

The rest of the evening and the succeeding night was nothing short of a horror movie, from Tetsurou’s point of view at least. After Oikawa had tied his arms, he made the boy turn over and lie on his back as the gangster straddled his naked thighs. The brown-eyed man was anything but gentle or calm: he pinched the boy’s nipples hard, he sucked hickeys down Tetsurou’s neckline, he bit him violently; Tetsurou had no doubt he’ll have bruises all over the torso. His captor didn’t speak any more; he was too busy expressing his rage by ravaging Tetsurou’s upper body. The prisoner was moaning from pain and emitting muffled sounds around the plastic ball in his mouth. Since Tetsurou was already half hard from Oikawa’s previous ministrations, it didn’t take long for the mobster to make Tetsurou’s dick fully erect. The last coherent thought the black-haired could form was about his body being surprisingly responsive to Oikawa’s abusive actions. Was he a masochist? After a particularly hard bite on his shoulder, Tetsurou’s mind went blank and only registered the feelings, one after another: endless touches, punishing and degrading, lust and dark arousal floating in his veins. The boy’s emotions spiralled out of his control. The events of the evening stayed in his memory as segmental patches of pure agony…

…Something is being put on his dick, a plastic ring or something like that, and is secured at the base; another ring comes to envelop his balls in a tight grip. Then the first session of teasing begins. The fear has made something to Tetsurou; his body feels hot all over, every inch of his skin is extremely sensitive. He feels saliva dripping down his chin because of the gag; he tries to cry out but the sound doesn’t come out right. Oikawa, holding Tetsurou’s frame down with his weight on the raven’s hips, bites his right nipple while pinching and twisting the left one; this stimulation alone makes Tetsurou‘s strained member feel ready to explode. When the beautiful villain moves lower, dips down and takes the tip of Tetsurou’s dick in his mouth, the tension gets unbearable. The world shrinks to the heat and wetness hugging his dick. The bound boy writhes on the rug and arches his back in vain, but he gets no relief; Oikawa keeps him pinned hard and sucks his member roughly. Oversensitivity drives the boy crazy. Hot tears started to leak from his eyes; he just can’t take it, no more teasing, please, no more... After some time, which seems to be an eternity, Tetsurou is left on the floor breathless and deadened. His throat feels sore from all the helpless cries; his body is heavy and boneless. The black haired aches for release, but for now it feels refreshing simply to be left alone and free of any stimulating touches. Tetsurou tunes out.

…He recovers consciousness while he is being dragged by his messy hair. Brutal hands make him flop over on his stomach; his torturer releases his arms and forces him to get on all fours. It is hard to stay in the position with his partly numb hands and trembling feet, but Tetsurou tries his best to not enrage Oikawa even further. The next stage of teasing approaches Tetsurou. He feels slicked fingers at his entrance; does Oikawa wear those latex gloves? The younger boy is being fingered rough and fast; he shall be really grateful for Oikawa’s recommendation to prepare his fortuneless ass for fucking. Tetsurou is rock hard again. Why doesn’t he feel nauseous right now? Is it because he isn’t doing all those things himself? Given that Oikawa fulfils his own selfish wish by abusing Tetsurou, who has no choice, the boy can avoid any guilt trips. After scissoring Tetsurou with two fingers and adding the third one, Oikawa seems to find Tetsurou’s prostate. He curls his fingers to lightly brush at it, making the prisoner lean into his touch. The same moment the mischievous gangster pulls his fingers away. No word is spoken aloud; no more touches are inflicted to ignite the boy’s skin; he only feels something long and large being pushed inside him. The thing has to be a butt plug; a butt plug with a remote control, Tetsurou finds out mere seconds later. The toy begins to vibrate against his inner walls; the arousal level rises to quite painful again. The black haired boy hears the light tapping of footsteps fading away; Oikawa quits the room mutely and leaves him with the vibrating plug up his ass. The speeds start to change spontaneously; every single one is torturous in its own way.

…He is still on the floor, unmoved from the spot Oikawa left him on. His hands have failed the test and gave up though; Tetsurou leans on his elbows, his body shakes along with the pulsation of the toy. Oikawa has left hours ago, it seems; the agony spreads in time and space. Tetsurou has devolved into an overstimulated mess, into a puddle of tensed nerves and choked off pleas. In the rare moments when the vibration level slows, the boy’s head starts to clear a little. The prisoner thinks then, that he should present a perfect sight for his sadistic Master: flushed, desperate, tears and saliva dripping down the face, his aching cock leaking precome all over the floor; he has no dignity at all. He is ready to beg, to plea, to humble himself… But the ball gag in his mouth only lets him emit muffled noises and low whines. Not to mention, there is not a single soul around him to beg of since Oikawa left. At some point amidst Tetsurou’s struggles the familiar gracious footsteps return. A moment later the plug stills in his butt, and Tetsurou hears the voice of the brown haired villain for the first time since the start of his punishment.

“Did I allow you putting your weight on your elbows? Did you dare to change your position, sweetie?” With that the plug is pulled out in one move, making Tetsurou startle and pant heavily around the gag. “A little earlier I’ve considered the current punishment to be enough for you, Kuroo; but you are so rebellious and defiant…”

Oikawa sing-songs the last words. Who is rebellious here? A naked 20-year-old who's endured this ordeal unrestrained without even attempting to release his aching member from the cock ring or take the butt plug out of his ass? OK, fine, but practically falling face down on the floor is called exhaustion, not defiance. But only in the normal world, perhaps.

“I will have to spank you, I think. Bad slaves deserve to be spanked.”

…He is on his bed again, lying on his belly, two pillows stacked under his groin to lift his butt in the air. His dick is still wearing the cock ring, but the arousal level is not high now, so the little thing is the least of his troubles. His ass is red and sore already, because Oikawa took his time and spanked him over the knee. Tetsurou’s current position on top of the pillows is not that embarrassing as when he was spread across Oikawa’s lap during the spanking. The boy is grateful already. Unfortunately, the spanking was definitely not enough; not for a disobedient slave like Tetsurou at any rate. The raven would have smirked to himself now if it was not for the gag. His unrestraint in words use is the reason why his Master has to bother himself with caning Tetsurou’s ass raw. Oikawa touches his butt cheeks with his digits, looking at the damage caused before. Then Tetsurou feels the tip of the cane brushing over his sensitive flesh, gliding there and back, until the first blow startles him. The caning begins. Every single stroke inflicts loads of pain; would there be only bruises or also some blood in the end? Tetsurou tries his best to stay in place, to be obedient, but he can’t prevent himself from squirming and wriggling and moving his butt back and force a little between the strokes. His torturer doesn’t mind, though. He waits patiently every time until Tetsurou stills his body and puts his ass in the right position. The raven-haired boy doesn’t feel ashamed, he is more curious than anything now. How many blows did he survive already? How many more would he have to endure? What does his ass look like now? Are his whimpers really loud? Tetsurou’s mind is clearer now; he can think again. The boy is glad he isn’t into this kind of pain (his cock stays practically limp since the start of the spanking session); it would be shameful if the caning aroused him as the nipple teasing did (which has been annoying enough already). One more useless observation: he is able to think while in pain, but obviously unable when highly aroused. Tetsurou arches his back from the pillows after a particularly hard stroke; never did he think that a cane can hurt so much. The black haired boy has seen corporal punishments in historical books only (and has never searched through such stuff on the Internet). He has a lot to learn, doesn’t he?

…He is being held by Oikawa, the promise to get fucked after Oikawa’s return finally fulfilled. The captive lies on his back with his knees lifted up and held by Oikawa’s hands. The gangster fucks him hard and fast, abusing his prostate with every thrust of his strong hips, slapping his aching, red and sore butt cheeks with his upper thighs while burying his dick up the hilt inside Tetsurou’s ass. The bandage on the younger’s eyes and the plastic gag in his mouth were never taken away, and his jaw is numb, and the bandage feels stiff against his eyelids; nothing of that is surprising after Tetsurou was forced to have his mouth open for hours, and the floods of tears he had to shed in the course of the evening. The damned cock ring stays in place as well; now he is pathetically aroused. Oikawa’s actions could’ve been pleasurable under different circumstances; the brunette has managed to make his slave hard again within his first thrusts into his ass and is denying him his orgasm once again. The friction is too much: too painful, too intense, too fast, too hard, and too cruel. Tetsurou repeats to himself again and again: “Everything has an end; this torture will also end; I won’t break, I won’t break, I won’t lose it…”

…Tetsurou is being washed clean. The bandage and the gag have disappeared. Hot water runs over his oversensitive and dead tired body. Somebody holds him while the other one cleans the mess on his skin in the little shower. This should be Kanou and Oikawa. After he is taintless and dry again, Tetsurou feels a familiar weight and cold on his neck; the collar is back in place. Somebody makes him drink an entire water bottle.

…Tetsurou is put into the cage in the corner of his sky blue room. After the wasted male is locked inside the small space, Oikawa comes to sit on the floor in front of the metal construction. The gangster starts to speak to Tetsurou in his rich voice, he talks slow and distinct, but the meaning of his words gets lost somewhere in the air, not reaching the taller boy’s floating mind; the villain himself notices it eventually.

“Kuroo! Hey, Kuroo! Are you sorry at least?”

“Yes, I am, Master,” a hoarse whisper comes from the boy’s lips.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

“I am sorry for being so bad, I won’t let you down anymore. I…” The familiar phrase in rings in his ears and Tetsurou pauses in panic.

Oikawa certainly doesn’t like his stalling.

“What’s up? Use your words!”

“May I ask you a question, Master?”

“Yes, you may…” Oikawa sounds puzzled.

“Am I disgusting to you?”

Now Oikawa is puzzled for sure; his brows furrow in frustration and his flawless forehead gets all wrinkled.

“No, you are not,” he states firmly after a pause, “I wouldn’t play with someone who is disgusting to me. You are a poorly trained slave, but you are still a pretty little boy. You are not disgusting. So… Kanou will unlock you in the morning, and then your punishment will be over.”

“Thank you for taking care of me, Master.”

“You sound so unconvincing, dear! Make me trust your words more the next time you have to apologize! You screwed up, but you took your punishment obediently. So I will let you and your friend live. Be careful, anyway.”

“I will, Master, I am so sorry…”

“Shut up already and try to sleep.”

The brunette pats his prisoner on the head, lifts himself up and walks away from the room. After the door is closed and Tetsurou is finally alone in his dark room, he recalls that he wanted to learn Oikawa’s given name. But he will get another chance, won’t he? He is stuck here for a long time anyway.

…Tetsurou rolls himself up into a ball to fit in the narrow space somehow and doses off, falling into uneasy dreams on the wooden floor of the cage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am awful, I know, I know))  
> I'm so happy that somebody gives me kudos)) Thank you so much)))
> 
> If you leave a comment, I will appreciate it so-so much!


	6. The Horror Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo tries his best to save his personality from being shattered to pieces.  
> And suddenly... confesses to Kenma after six years of loving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-Hey!
> 
> Another trashy chapter!  
> Though there's a bit of romance)

**_Don't give up on the dream, don't give up on the wanting, and everything that's true._ **

**_Don't give up on the dream, don't give up on the wanting..._ **

****

**_Because I want you too,_ **

**_because I want you too,_ **

**_because I want you too,_ **

**_because I want you,_ **

**_because I want you._ **

****

**_(Placebo -  Because I Want You)_ **

****

The morning cold was the reason why Tetsurou woke up that early. The sun was only rising according to the view from his window: rosy, feathery-light clouds were travelling across the tender blue sky and striving towards their brilliant future. If the prisoner’s notion of time didn’t betray him, it was about 5 or 6 a.m. At first, Tetsurou couldn’t figure out, where he was: he was facing metal cage ribs in front of a sky blue wall with his body limp and crumpled while his limbs had gone numb. The raven-haired boy felt frightened as he couldn’t catch on of what happened to him. He should still be in his bed at this time… Then it clicked in his head. The bed he thought of first and where he should have spent the night was not _his_ and not _his_ friend’s or relative’s. It belonged to a mysterious mafia group, a member of which, the certain Oikawa, had raped him yesterday. The existing situation was not a riddle anymore. Less briefly, Tetsurou was experiencing the aftermath of a tongue-slip – he’s said “Kenma” aloud while Oikawa was fondling his body; how could he have failed so miserably – to call out somebody else’s name in the presence of this filthy possessive bastard! The boy cursed and tried to readjust himself to the narrow space of his cell; to his displeasure, the mission proved to be impossible. He was so weak he could barely lift his hands up. After some struggle, the poor captive managed to sit with his knees pressed against his ribcage.

For the first time, Tetsurou wished to be able to change his constitution which he had always been so proud of. He was an athlete (which paid off in toned abs, strong arms and sculptured thighs), but it was more of an addition to his natural body build. The ex-middle blocker was sure, even if he hadn’t trained that much, he would still be tall and lean, as all his family members were. Particularly now his long limbs were the major issue; it was impossible to fit comfortably in this narrow space. Tetsurou tried to flex his arms and legs, to shift somehow, but there was no possibility of easing the stiffness and pain in his muscles. So he just stayed in the positions with his knees bent and wriggled his toes in order to prevent numbness. How did he manage to sleep last night? Just how wrecked and exhausted had he been? His ass was sore and sitting on the hard wooden floor was actually painful. The raven-haired tried to lie on his left side, only to find out that this exact position made his shoulders ache like hell. Thanks to Oikawa and his ropes. The prisoner was glad to be in pain now, anyway. The heavier the pain, the less time he had to think about his previous humiliation. Tetsurou was too tired to work through his trauma at the moment; he would like to get more sleep before he started to bring everything into deliberation. He didn’t have the guts to believe in his latest memories now, couldn’t accept the truth. The nightmare of yesterday has not happened to him, it had happened to a stranger, to his clone, to anybody, but not him. Oikawa’s abusive acts were too absurd, too comical, too stupid, too humiliating. “My pride was damaged the most, huh,” thought Tetsurou while hugging his legs tight and hiding his head in his arms. “Do I cry? Yeah, I do, actually.” The captive stayed in this position, trying to fight back the unexpected bitter tears which were falling silently from under his eyelashes.

Tetsurou was still naked and the air felt chilly; the metal ribs of the cage were too cold und unpleasant for touch, so he tried to shrink into himself and sit still in the middle. No thinking, no moving, just waiting for somebody to come and liberate him. How great it would be to break free not only from the cold cage but from this rotten prison routine as well… Why was this all taking place? For the hundredth time in these eight days, Tetsurou recalled everything Oikawa and Iwaizumi had told him about his and Kenma’s family. What was so special about their relatives? No clue there…

The end of his punishment came unexpectedly. During the boy’s attempts to find a bearable pose Kanou knocked at the door and then entered the room slowly. Kanou’s present facial expression was entirely new for Tetsurou: the tattooed boy looked depressed and guilty. The servant came closer, pulled the trigger of the cage out and opened the door (Tetsurou could have unlocked himself easily and he would have, under other circumstances; now it just added to his feeling of helplessness and mortification). The captive had almost fallen out the metal doorframe as he lost the support of the door from his left side. He crawled out from the cage just enough to lie down on his back with his arms and legs fully stretched, not bothered by the fact that his feet still stayed in the expanse of the metal construction. Tetsurou smiled at the ceiling and wanted to dose off already, as Kanou started to chatter. Something about the cold floor and his miserable state, but who cared anyway? Tetsurou waved his hand dismissively, silently asking to leave him alone, to no purpose. The young gangster was talking a mile a minute and occasionally wheezing in an effort to lift Tetsurou up and get him to the bed. After several unlucky attempts the black haired boy gave himself a little effort, so Kanou could elevate him and drag 1.5 meters to bed. Upon reaching the destination, Tetsurou laid his long body on the front and hugged the pillow. The same moment he had started to drift to sleep; through his drowsiness, he felt someone’s gentle hand rubbing his aching ass and smoothing it with some sort of cooling cream. He was too tired to react, albeit he was really grateful. And as the tattooed boy found a spare blanket somewhere under the bed and covered Tetsurou’s exhausted body with it, the boy was indeed ready to apologise himself to Kanou for his arrogant behaviour earlier. Though he couldn’t – the sleep sealed his eyes.

It was about 8 p.m. as Tetsurou woke up from his heavy sleep. His body felt weak and his butt hurt a bit, nevertheless, in comparison to how he felt in the morning, he was great. One more time he recalled the events of the previous day. How innocent has everything started, and how ugly the results have been. Soon he heard a familiar tap on the door: Kanou was there again with a food tray. The servant stayed as long as Tetsurou was having dinner; many things were happening today for the first time. Surprisingly, it was much more comfortable to eat in company. The prisoner had almost forgotten how it felt – to be not alone while going through his daily routine. Both boys kept quiet, and it didn’t disturb the peace in the room. As Tetsurou finished eating, he opened his mouth to tell Kanou how grateful he was, but the tattooed boy hushed the captive by pressing his index finger to his own lips. Then he took the food tray away and brought the one with the laptop. As Tetsurou saw the laptop, he recalled that he had to write a letter to Kenma …yesterday. How could he possibly have forgotten? Was Oikawa’s visit in the morning such a disturbance?

“Kanou! The letter to Kenma!”

“Kuroo, mhm… Oikawa took the papers from your window-sill and said they should do as a letter.”

“But these were only drafts!..”

“Then they are the most sincere ones, right? Oikawa was so angry he ordered me to give your papers to Kenma. Oikawa didn’t look through it. So today I have met your friend for the first time. He’s cute. I told him to get rid of all your writings as soon as he is finished with reading.”

Upon saying this in a low voice, Kanou opened the laptop and started the session. Then he left.

Kenma was sitting on his bed, surrounded by A4 papers covered in notes in Tetsurou’s neat handwriting. He was reading through the longest one; the one Tetsurou planned to dispose of. Because it was truly sincere, Kanou had guessed right.

The “letter” ran as follows:

 

_Hi Kenma!_

_I’m writing this letter to you, but you won’t read it. It is neither the right time nor the right place. Though I don’t know, whether the time will come for me and you. Every day here is a trial; I try hard not to lose myself. You know what happened to our families, don’t you? We lost everything in one go. I can’t imagine what I would do if I get free today. Where to go, what to do… I am so afraid of tomorrow; though Oikawa made an agreement with me, the only power I have is this madman’s desire to toy me around, to use me as a slave. He relishes the idea that I have to sacrifice my human dignity in order to save you._

_Oikawa is a mystery to me; I can’t read him at all. Somehow I feel that I can trust his words and that he won’t hurt you unless I break his rules. Every morning I look at the door and think about the chain on my leg, whether I could destroy it in some way and get rid of it; whether I’d be able to wreck the damn collar and try to open the door. At times like this, I wonder whether the door is really closed or not. Am I a paranoiac? Then I remember my first day in this cell with the sky blue walls: Oikawa made me use the electroshock collar by coming too close to the door. I fainted. That’s not the only issue though. What do I do if I get out of my room? I can’t fight the bandits; I’m pretty useless in these matters. I have always protected myself with my long telltale tongue; it’s been quite effective, to my point of view. But… That’s not what I want to talk about right now._

_I love you so much, Kenma. I have been in love with you since the first year of high school. Just after I realised I was gay, I understood, that the feeling I have towards you is love, and nothing else. It makes six years till present. What an idiot have I been not to confess to you earlier… I knew you wouldn’t abandon me after learning the truth, but I was so scared that you won’t love me back, that I postponed my confession month after month. You know, I wanted to confess to you on the weekend after the day when that … incident happened. I was determined to tell you everything and just to see where it gets us. But… I’m foolish, as you wrote back then in your letter. I’ve missed so many opportunities, and now I sit here and think of you. Every spare minute I think of you, and I have so many of those free minutes in my imprisonment. I think of you, when I’m lonely, when I’m in pain, when I’m shattered. And, of course, when I’m pleasuring myself, I imagine you. Before I came here, I’ve been quite innocent in sex matters. Thanks to Oikawa, I’m not innocent anymore, for better or worse. And I’ve started to picture myself, what I could do to you, what you could do to me. I’ve always been so happy to feel that you are near me, that you are accepting me, that we are close to each other… but how great would it be if I could make you feel really good? That’s what occupies my head now. And I am the happiest when these thoughts stuff my head full so that I forget about the collar I’m wearing and about Oikawa and all the deaths and about all I will have to endure after this crazy person returns from his mission._

_Hopefully, I won’t forget to tear this note into pieces before “my Master” will nose into it._

_I don’t want to be held by him; when it happens I don’t know what will be worse: if I will like having sex with Oikawa or if it will be an absolute disaster. I fear both. And what if it will be an absolute disaster and I turn out to be perverted enough to like it?_

_How do you stay sane after a rape?_

_I’ve been recalling the events from our mutual past: how you were the person who found me under the tree after I fell from it, nearly breaking my spine, and couldn’t move when I was 12; how we always spent our time in your bedroom in a contented silence; how you took me to your house that day, ready to let me stay there if my parents decided to throw me away after my coming-out as a gay… It feels so strange and uncustomary to have so many changes in my life and not to have a chance to discuss everything with you; as if I’ve lost a part of my brain. As an addition to my heart stolen by you 6 years ago_ _J_ _._

_In the evening I lie in bed and count volleyballs to fall asleep. I can’t get to sleep without that. Every time I imagine, how you speak to me, how you scold me for being restless and order to at least try to doze off and count volleyballs for you. And I do count indeed… But before counting volleyballs I talk to you in my head, I tell you everything that has happened to me and what I’ve been thinking and so on. But I always fail to figure out your answers. It always has been and it still is the main mystery of my life: I’ve spent more time with you than with anyone else; I’ve always thought, I know you better than the others do (except for your Mama, I guess), but your answers to my questions have always been unpredictable. You seemed to evolve so fast that I was too stupid to follow. Though I’m older by 1 year._

_I see you every day per Skype. It’s a luxury actually; it was proposed by Oikawa – to prove me that you are treated OK. Most times I’m just happy to be able to see you, to know something about your life, but this very situation is tough for you as well. My heart breaks to pieces every time I see you cry. I don’t know how to handle my own ordeals, but if I could make you stop crying in exchange for some shit I would’ve agreed to do any crazy thing. So, please, be strong, I’m so worried already… How selfish of me to demand this from you even in a letter designated for a trash bin._

_I do love you so much. I want you to be safe so much… I will do all I can do in this situation. But I don’t see a hope for us. I’m desperate. How long will Oikawa’s game last? How long will I be a toy worth to play with? What will he do to us after? Too many questions with no answers._

_There is only one question, which I will always answer in the affirmative:_

_\- Does Tetsurou Kuroo love Kenma Kozume?_

_- Yes._

_Yours eternally,_

_Tetsurou_

The other notes were simple and uninteresting compared to this letter. Kenma read it till the end and then again, and again… He pressed the long confession to his chest before walking slowly to his bathroom, where he tore it and flushed down the toilet, according to the noises. When Kenma was back into the room, he looked at the camera and smiled his special little smile which was reserved for the times when he and Tetsurou were alone. Then he returned to his bed and read one note after another. Two of them went into the trash, torn to pieces, the others have been accurately gathered and piled under Kenma’s pillow. The session ended after that. As always, Tetsurou didn’t notice that Kanou was back, ready to take the laptop away.

“Thank you…” whispered the black haired prisoner, “Oikawa’s and your actions made more than myself in the course of the past six years…”

Kanou smiled; it was a very fleeting and small smile, but it was the first time Tetsurou saw the servant smiling. His face returned to its stern expression immediately, though.

 

The three weeks that followed were all alike; just one long “Ground-Hog Day” as in the film of the same name. Everything repeated and repeated, again and again. Even the Skype sessions were happening at the same time every day – at 9 a.m., though Oikawa had planned to organize them at different times every day. The letters from Kenma were brought at the dinner time – one more regular thing. Tetsurou felt alive only twice a day: while watching Kenma in the morning and while reading a new letter from him in the evening. Nothing changed in his life; Oikawa was persistent and tortured him day after day, only pausing because of his missions. The black-haired boy was sure, that his “Master” took his joy in breaking people. With all the will he still had, with all his powers left, Tetsurou wished to deny Oikawa this pleasure. The gangster made him cry and beg for mercy in the night, and Tetsurou greeted him with a smirk in the morning; the villain wrecked him once again, but the next day Tetsurou collected himself from pieces to resist his torturer. Tetsurou became a toy for a person whom he didn’t love; nonetheless, he intended to save his true self from disappearing through all the ordeals, whereas the only way he had found to save it was hiding his real feelings deep inside. So he had to compress his personality to a sweet mask of a living sex doll, forgetting the concealed part of his identity in order to stay alive. His three next letters to Kenma were long, but not free-spoken; he was sure, that Kenma understood why. Tetsurou was really glad, that Kenma had got his confession. He didn’t have the guts to confess for six years, like the coward he was. The black-haired boy felt so lonely without a companion. He didn’t have much to tell an interested listener since his life was so boring. Truth to be told, there was no one who would listen to him here. Or who could listen to him and not be endangered. But… every day Kenma smiled at the camera in the morning; Tetsurou was ready to withstand anything as long as Kenma was smiling at him.

 

It was the fifth week of his imprisonment, the first day of his second month in mafia headquarters. Tetsurou was lying in the bed awake though it was 3 p.m.; he acquired this habit only recently. He was simply staring at the ceiling, his head empty and heavy at the same time.

Until Oikawa stormed into the room and yanked the raven-haired boy out of his nest by his arm and pressed him with his back to a wall before the latter could react.

“Hi Kuroo, having a good time alone?”

“No, Master.”

“So you don’t like it here?”

“I didn’t say this, Master.”

“But you think so! You dirty little liar!”

“No, Master! I don’t have anything to do while you are absent! I am here because I’m your toy!..”

And this was how it came about that Tetsurou lost his last pieces of hope. How he came undone.

 

That day’s abuse was the worst since the beginning of his captivity. The raven couldn’t recall much afterwards: a blindfold, a gag, ropes burning into his skin, whip lashes, and a pretty voice with crazy intonations insulting and mortifying the boy’s mind. Definitely, Oikawa’s words were his ultimate weapon. Every single phrase broke another brick in the walls of Tetsurou’s defence. When there were none left, Tetsurou shut his mind out completely to prevent destroying of its core. After his mind stopped registering new bites of pain, the boy (better said, his abandoned shell) found himself floating in a blessed nothing: no more disconsolate screams in a strangely familiar voice, no more torturing touches, no more suffering in vain. Was there ever any purpose behind it all? The empty shell didn’t see any. Then why bothering with coming back to consciousness?

…Cold and slender fingers caressed his forehead; as if they wanted to touch more, but didn’t have the strength to follow their wish. Then a body pressed itself to his torso, he felt water drops running down his chest. The tears (this drops couldn’t be anything other than tears, could they?) felt hot against his skin. This contact didn’t feel painful; so, there was something else outside of the black nothing. The shell decided to come back once more and try it out…

He was surrounded by sky blue walls; the bed felt familiar, the gorgeous brunette with curly hair and a tattooed boy with a stern face looked well-known. They called him Kuroo; they made him do a lot of things, among others, they made him watch a certain boy with a partly blond head every day. It seemed that this boy had dyed his hair blonde once, and now its dark roots began to grow. The tattooed servant (he was to be called Kanou, the other one – Master) told him one day:

“Why do you look at him as if he were some stranger? It’s Kenma, he is your childhood friend, and he is the person… who is important to you. Kuroo, don’t you remember? I bring you letters from him every evening.”

“Oh, that’s the author of the letters? He seems to care about me.”

Kuroo couldn’t explain why Kanou looked at him with his eyes full of pain and regrets.

The “Master” came to Kuroo every now and then; the brunette seemed to regret something as well. It showed off in his chocolate eyes when he pretended to look pleased while watching Kuroo’s submissive behaviour. The hours spent with his Master were sometimes even pleasurable, but most of the times it was excruciating and exhausting. Master fucked him from behind and bit his shoulders so hard that there was some blood; he paddled Kuroo’s ass and whipped his back, so the boy was screaming till he lost his voice; he tied him up so tight and in such uncomfortable positions that all his muscles and joints were strained and ached mercilessly. While tormenting Kuroo, the brunette murmured something from time to time. As Kuroo once made an effort to listen, he heard mostly one word, one name - “Hajime”.

“Hajime, you are so close, yet out of reach.”

“Hajime, I need you so much, why did you close up your soul from me? Am I so disgusting to you?”

“…Hajime… Hajime… Hajime…”

Kuroo didn’t listen anymore; he didn’t care.

 

There was a bothersome day once a week when Kanou was coming and asking Kuroo to write a letter to Kenma. When he came for the first time after Kuroo’s awakening from darkness, the black haired boy had to sit in front of a blank sheet of paper for an hour or so. He had an assignment – to write a letter, but he didn’t have any idea of why, how and what about he had to write. Then Kanou came back and dictated what to write. After half a page was covered in neat lines, Kanou took the letter from him and left the room. The next day Kenma was looking melancholic, he smiled at the camera, as usual, but with a very sad smile. Kuroo felt a dull ache in his chest at that view; but why? The next notes he got from Kenma were written in an entirely different style: it was more like a collection of their mutual memories. Albeit Kuroo couldn’t recall any of the following things: their first meeting, the stories with him falling from a tree, the stories about their volleyball practices, about his coming out as a gay, about the start of their university life in Tokyo; however, he somehow believed the fake blonde’s narrations. So, that talkative, energetic and sly guy described in Kenma’s letters was the one who made the shorter boy look at Kuroo with sadness. Was Kuroo like that before? No way possible. He also learnt from Kenma’s notes, that his given name was Tetsurou. But this information was irrelevant, the two persons who visited him, called him Kuroo, he didn’t need another name.

In any case, Kuroo started to trust Kenma. One more month, and Kuroo was able to write a short letter to Kenma without Kanou’s assistance. The morning after Kenma received his first self-written note, Kuroo noticed something bordering on pride and relief in his facial expression. The respond from his vis-a-vis sounded more enthusiastic than ever. Kenma praised him (it made Kuroo’s heart beat faster); in the finish lines he was asking whether Tetsurou could do something for him. He wanted Kuroo to do some physical exercises. Kuroo didn’t see any point in it, but he didn’t have a lot to do in his Master’s absence. To his surprise, Master praised him for exercising as well, so he continued doing push-ups and other stuff in the morning. His body seemed to be grateful as well; his muscles and joints didn’t ache that much after his Master’s bondage games. Kuroo still couldn’t recall anything from his past, though. Here and now he was a toy for his Master, and nothing else. The fake blond should have really liked his previous self to care for the zombie Kuroo had become.

Kuroo received little assignments from Kenma every two or three days; fulfilling his requests helped the black haired boy to close the time gaps in his aimless being, so he took them gratefully and his faith in Kenma only grew. That’s why when in the postscript of yet another note Kenma wrote to hide under his bed after Kanou leaves with the empty food tray from his evening meal, Kuroo did as he was told without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, don't forget to leave kudos and comments!  
> Make me a little happier!


	7. The Price of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is the most important thing in the world! Don't take it for granted!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!  
> I had a nice time writing this, but even good things have an end! I hope, you will like the end of the story!!!

**_So please don't let them have their way_ **

**_Don't give in to yesterday_ **

****

**_We can build a new tomorrow, today_ **

**_We can build a new tomorrow, today_ **

**_We can build a new tomorrow, today_ **

**_We can build a new tomorrow, today_ **

****

**_(Placebo -  Speak In Tongues)_ **

 

****

Tetsurou woke up at the feeling of a light breeze gingerly playing with his hair. He was leaning on a wall with his back, and Kenma was half-lying on his chest. In front of him lay a marvellous urban landscape with tall glass buildings, busy high-ways and neon lights. It seemed that they were sitting on a roof of a skyscraper, and the wall behind him referred to the roof’s entry booth. Apparently, it was late: the colours mellowed as the sun went down. Tetsurou shifted his body slightly which bothered his best friend, who sat by his side, snuggled closely to Tetsurou’s chest. Immediately Kenma lifted his eyes from the tablet, the screen of which he was studying intensely. The fake blonde locked the confident gaze of his golden eyes with Tetsurou’s confused one. He seemed to search for something in Tetsurou’s gaze. Apparently, Kenma has found what he’s sought for. His nodded slightly to himself and said tenderly:

“I love you too, Tetsurou.”

 

 

 

 

“I love you too, Tetsurou.”

Was it a dream? His beloved person was confessing to him on a roof of a skyscraper in the last rays of the sun. No, the sensations of the wind on his skin and Kenma’s warmth next to him felt too real for a dream. Tetsurou pinched his arm for a good measure just to hiss at the sting. It was happening for real.

“Kenma, I’m flattered,” he muttered, suddenly feeling shy.

Something akin to relief flickered in Kenma’s gaze and disappeared.

“Don’t you want to say something in return?” Kenma turned over and crawled into the elder’s lap, positioning his face right in front of Tetsurou’s.

“I love you; of course I love you, Kenma! Yet you’ve sounded as if you were answering me as if I had confessed to you first after all… Which I can’t recall doing.”

At this moment it clicked in his head. The missing pieces of a big puzzle were gravitating to one another: the fire burning their houses with the corpses of their relatives inside, agreement with Oikawa, Kenma’s unconscious body on the floor of a truck, the night spent tied up in a cellar, his comfortable cell, the collar and the shackle, videos about Kenma crying desperately and tearing papers, his own attempts to stay strong in given circumstances, Oikawa wrecking him to the point of no return, numbness and blackness after that. And one particular Skype session where Kenma was reading his confession, in a letter which was to be destroyed before anyone could see it, and smiling to Tetsurou through the camera lenses. The black haired boy sunk into a reverie and restored his contact with reality after he felt that Kenma was clinging to him, hands clutched to Tetsurou’s shirt, crying desperately. The raven immediately pulled his small companion close, hugged him tightly and started to pat his beloved one on the head.

“I’m here, I’m with you, I won’t leave you… Don’t cry, Kenma, please…” he whispered.

After what felt like an eternity the blonde stopped sobbing and stilled in Tetsurou’s grip. The taller boy noticed that Kenma’s hair was longer now, so the blonde had a neat pony tail on the nape. As he was thinking about how Kenma had managed to reach a new level of cuteness, the younger started to speak again, in a soft voice, but uncharacteristically passionately.

“I was so afraid that you turned into a dummy again when you stopped talking to me. Since we’ve left Oikawa’s residence you’ve been only sleeping, eating and visiting the bathroom. You didn’t say a word, moved like a robot and your facial expression was always blank.

“Sounds like shit. How long has it been since we…left?”

“Three full weeks.”

“And why do I feel so … wrecked?”

“You’ve had rib injuries and a lot of contusions. I suppose it should be painful to breathe for you.”

“It is, actually, but I didn’t notice it before you’ve mentioned it. Got used to pain? I may be wrecked in the head, I think.”

“Don’t say so. You sound like yourself for the first time in about 5 months.”

“Oh. OK, sorry, Kenma. Come here, let me hug you tighter.”

“Tetsu, your ribs.”

“Ouch… But I still want to hug you with all I have!”

“Did I tell you that you are a fool?”

“Absolutely! I’m a fool for you! I am so in love with you!”

“Gross, Tetsurou! Leave my earlobe alone!”

“Sorry, sorry, don’t hit me with your elbow… aaah, I’ll be good, I promise! Kenma, stop nudging me, I’m serious again! I have a lot of questions.”

“Start with the most important ones; I have some work to do.”

“Well, what happened to Oikawa and his colleagues? And … Kanou?”

“They are all dead. Don’t know exactly about Kanou, I’ve given him a hint that he has to hide.”

“Very informative, Kenma. The next question: how did I survive?”

“You followed my instruction and didn’t get hurt during the take-on operation. Though you’ve received several injuries after the detonation…”

“Stop for a second. A take-on operation? Did police come to rescue?”

“No. It was a rival criminal group which decided to destroy the group of Oikawa. They had a plainclothes man in the organisation, who accidentally was assigned to me as my overseer. As I started to work for Iwaizumi, he decided to team up with me. Thank god I wasn’t watched as intently as you…”

“Wait-wait-wait. “This is the house that Jack built.” You worked for Iwaizumi. How on earth had it evolved?”

“Iwaizumi came to see me after you stayed unconscious for three days. He said something like: “I was curious to take a look at the boy for whom that bright guy Tetsurou Kuroo had sacrificed his freedom and dignity”. He did really like you. I persuaded him that I need to see you in order to wake you up… You did wake up, indeed, as conscious as a mannequin.”

A new wave of reminiscences washed over Tetsurou’s boiling brain: the cold fingers on his forehead, which seemed to come from a dream and to call him somewhere, had touched him for real and belonged to Kenma. Tetsurou’s head ached insufferably when he tried to recollect the events between the aforementioned Kenma’s visit to him and the present moment. Too many new pieces for the big puzzle his life has turned into.

“Kenma… What happened in these 5 months? I can’t recall anything at all, and when I try, my head hurts.”

“You stayed there, in the headquarters of Oikawa’s group, in your cell, and this fucking bastard came to you every day when he was not on a mission.”

The look on Kenma’s face scared Tetsurou. He had never seen his best friend wearing such an unrelenting look. He had definitely changed over the last 6 months. Or was he always like that, and the brutal side of Kenma’s personality just didn’t have a need to show up?

“Tetsu, it seems that you’ve completely forgotten everything. For better or worse… I think it was a protective response from your psyche; you’ve done it to yourself not to go mad.”

“I couldn’t have forgotten about you, my love…”

“Please, erase this shitty smirk from this stupid face of yours!” – Kenma inhaled and exhaled deeply. “It is the first time you’ve recognised me since you fell into a three days oblivion 5 months ago.”

“But why was I in a state of insensibility for so long back then?”

“You sure you want to know? I don’t want to discuss it right now. Return thanks to Oikawa. Back to my story. You awakened after I had come to your room and cried on your chest. But you didn’t recognise me as you opened your eyes. I thought the ground sank under my feet. Iwaizumi had brought me back to my room, not letting me stay with you at least for one more hour… At first, I hoped the memory will come back to you, though in vain. Then I started to write you stories from our mutual past in my daily letters, but it didn’t help to recall your memories at all. But… I’ve gained your trust again. It was so strange to befriend once more a person whom you have known for 8 years and whose love letter you’ve read recently.”

Tetsurou had a hard time processing all the new information. So this was how he had confessed. Then a sudden thought appeared in the raven’s head.

“Anyway, Kenma… Let this horror rest for a while. It is more important to me now that we both… have confessed, right? So–o-oo… Are we a couple now?” and Tetsurou gently lifted Kenma’s chin with his fingers to look his beloved in the eyes.

“Don’t say such embarrassing things out of the blue!” Tetsurou’s precious boyfriend averted his gaze, twisted his head and his cheeks went slightly pink.

“You are so cute when blushing! Ouch, not my chest again!”

They messed around for a bit before Kenma gained his solemnity and the aggressive cuddling stopped. He looked at Tetsurou and said:

“Let us go inside. I need to check the bandages on your chest.”

 

Kenma led Tetsurou to the roof entry booth, from which they went down a flight of stairs and entered a spacious room.

“So, we do live here now.”

“Exactly. Tetsu, please, let me stay in silence for a while.”

And Tetsurou shut up obediently. Some habits of Kenma’s didn’t change, and it felt reassuring.

After the bandages were renewed, the black haired got an excursion around their apartment. There was a bedroom, a study, a spacious living room (where the staircase leading to the roof started) and a modern kitchen. Kenma even let Tetsurou cook an omelette though he was watching his boyfriend’s every move, ready to help or to save the cook in case of a misfortune. But it all went well.

“You cook better than me. Seems that I can say good bye to take out food.”

The silence that followed startled Kenma. He looked at Tetsurou wearily and saw his wet cheeks. Kenma touched the black haired boy lightly on the shoulder.

“What is it? Please, don’t remain silent.”

“Kenma. Remember, I always told you I would cook for you if we rent a flat together?”

“Yes.”

“I really wanted to cook for you. I can’t believe you are actually eating an omelette I made for you. I didn’t allow myself to even think of such things all _that_ time.”

“Don’t you dare to cry in front of me, Tetsurou Kuroo. I don’t want to weep again…” Kenma’s voice trembled as his lips did when he neared his body to Tetsurou’s in search for comfort.

So both boys left their food and just held on to each other, crying out all the stress and horror they were hiding and suppressing in the past six months.

 

They slept together, lying as close as possible on the bed to not disturb Tetsurou’s ribs. They stayed not 2 meters away from each other during the whole next day. Tetsurou tried to cook more sufficient meals while Kenma sat at the dining table with his laptop, tablet and two cell phones, typing vigorously.

In 8 p.m. Kenma came to his boyfriend, who was sitting on a couch in front of the TV, watching the news, and took a place beside him. The taller boy switched the TV off and turned to face his boyfriend.

“Tetsu, I have to go now. I have a meeting.”

The expression of Tetsurou’s face changed from peaceful to anxious. Kenma took his bigger hands in his small ones and reassured him:

“I will be back at 5 a.m. I won’t leave you. It will be OK. You won’t stay alone.”

“Can you… postpone this meeting?”

“No, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything in the morning. Please, go to bed not later than at midnight. If anything happens…nothing will, but just in case, I’ve left instructions for you on the bedside table.”

“Kenma. Please. Don’t go.”

“Tetsurou, do you trust me?”

A shaky nod.

“Have I ever let you down?”

Tetsurou shook his head no.

“OK. Then please, be good for me, don’t leave the apartment, don’t go on the roof and don’t touch my laptop or my papers. Agreed?”

Another shaky nod.

“Use your words, Tetsurou.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll do as you say. Please, Kenma, come back as soon as possible, OK?”

“You know well enough, I don’t want to leave you. Especially now, since you are finally back again. If you feel too nervous while I’m absent, you can look through my sketchbooks. I have several here. I can’t draw actually, these are just…funny pictures I’ve drawn in the three weeks you stayed here, sleeping all the time. I was thinking of you while I was sketching.”

By saying this, Kenma handed three A4 notebooks to Tetsurou and started to dress up for his meeting. Tetsurou watched him with a pout on his lips, following Kenma’s erratic movements through the flat with his amber eyes, still holding the sketchbooks in his cold hands.

At 8.45 p.m. Tetsurou hugged and kissed Kenma good bye and closed the entrance door. He felt restless already. Was his anxiety an aftereffect of his imprisonment and all the subsequent events or something else, but Tetsurou was scared and lonely and had no clue what to do.

The black haired boy went to their bedroom attempting to get asleep fast and wake up in the morning with his boyfriend by his side. But as he opened the door to their mutual bedroom, he suddenly felt a cold shiver running down his spine. The little empty room in their empty apartment looked intimidating, as if he had to go back to his sky blue cell at Oikawa’s headquarters. The reminiscence made him perspire. Tetsurou retreated hastily, not looking back at the now dark bedroom where there was no cage and no metal bars on the window, only the solitude. So he returned to the spacious living room, lit all the lamps and positioned himself on the couch. The tall boy tried to relax and to breathe slowly. It didn’t work. He hugged his knees with his arms and started to rock himself from side to side, whispering quietly:

“I’m OK, I’m safe, Kenma will be back here in no time…”

Since what time was he so weak? So dependable? Did he lose himself despite all the efforts? No, that’s wrong. He is like that because of all the stress he had. No trauma can be forgotten easily. And he had to survive through so much violence.

“Kenma told me to be good. Am I being good? He wanted me to fall asleep before 12 p.m. But I’m unable to sleep in this state of mind. He won’t be mad if I’m not in our bed by the time he comes back, will he?” Tetsurou’s thoughts got a surreal undertone. Was he associating Kenma with Oikawa? Why so?..

In the end he just sat there and looked through the sketchbooks his thoughtful boyfriend had left him. Did Kenma ever draw at all before this? No, Tetsurou couldn’t remember Kenma ever doing something like that. The sketches were schematic, plain and…cute. Kenma drew following things: black cats and panthers in a hundred of different variants, a tall boy with a smaller boy in different poses, volleyballs and nets, a big black cat and the short boy, a small spotty kitten and the tall boy and so on. In the end of the second sketchbook (the drawings looked actually more interesting with every page, very amusing) there was a series of sketches with subscriptions like “To Tetsurou when…” The whole collection was gorgeous, to Tetsurou’s point of view. He found the following pages the most endearing:

  * To Tetsurou when he is lonely (two cuddling cats, the big black one and the small spotty one);
  * To Tetsurou when he is afraid (an open box on the floor, the smaller boy is covering the top of the box with his body, but the ears of the black cat hiding there are noticeable);
  * To Tetsurou when he is happy (just a smiling smaller boy’s face);
  * To Tetsurou when he feels down – You are so good for me, Tetsu! (a small hand with slender fingers caresses the black cat who is purring).



The last one was embarrassingly sweet; Tetsurou mused whether he was blushing. As if Kenma was reading his thoughts right now. After seeing all these little love confessions from his shy and reserved boyfriend Tetsurou felt his anxiety lessening. But when he tried to leave for the bedroom the distress was back again. What should he do? The raven went to the kitchen and drank a little water. There he spotted a pile of blank A4 papers and a pen. He could write his thoughts down to structure them. So he did. The boy was writing for half an hour or so, it were only abrupt sentences, not really finished thoughts. These notes were to throw away later, of course. Then Tetsurou returned to the couch and continued to flip through the sketches, smiling constantly…

…At 5.15 a.m. Kenma found his boyfriend asleep in an uncomfortable position on the couch of their living room, with the sketchbooks tucked under his hands. Tetsurou’s head was thrown back at the back-rest of the couch at a strange angle, and the black haired was drooling in his sleep. Kenma took the sketchbooks away and moved the taller boy’s body so that he was now lying on the pillow, covered him with a blanket and muttered to himself:

“I told him to go to bed, not to wait for me here…”

Then Kenma went to the kitchen to eat something before finishing some paper work after the meeting with his new client and going to sleep himself. He had also brought some groceries - new portion of work for his personal cook. There his gaze fell upon some notes in a familiar neat handwriting. It was a personal thing, the fake blond mused. But… probably his new work line (and all the events before) made him more cynical. If he could get the information, he most certainly would. Though he felt guilt creeping into him, Kenma just couldn’t refrain from looking through Tetsurou’s notes. He immediately regretted his decision: the contents of Tetsurou’s writings made him scream internally and worry a lot more than he did already. But… now that he knew, he could help, couldn’t he? The boy flipped through the pages one more time:

 

_Can’t go to that dark bedroom, too scary. What if I come in, and the door locks itself behind me so I can’t go out? Then I will have to stay there and wait, wait, wait… It’s irrational, but I can’t suppress this feeling._

_Is Kenma alright? Is he not in danger? Don’t want to lose him again. I won’t be able to deal with it._

_I’m so afraid to stay alone. Can’t stand it._

The inscriptions started to sound more erratic with every new page.

 

_Is Kenma angry with me? Why did he leave me here alone? What if he doesn’t want me with him anymore?_

_Will he be mad at me because I’m not sleeping when he comes and sees me? Will he scold me? But I can’t fall asleep. I just can’t close my eyes and fall into that suffocating darkness again._

_I stayed alive thanks to Kenma. I am alive and free. I don’t feel calm though._

_I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do next when Kenma is not around. Now I have no other purpose in life than loving him and taking care of him. But I’m so useless. He left me alone and I am paralyzed. Why does Kenma have to do all the work for us both?_

Kenma felt angry tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Why had his beloved one to suffer that much because of some old dirty family matters and a mad gangster’s dark desires? Those fucking bastards had died too easy. Did his boyfriend consider himself useless for real? Why does Tetsurou think so low of himself? Doesn’t he remember? On that fateful night during the slaughter and just after the incident, when Kenma was a crying, frightened mess, who was kidnapped, locked in a cell, but was kept safe all the time, Tetsurou was making big decisions for them both and protecting Kenma with all he had. When Kenma sat there peacefully, played games and read books, Tetsurou had to surrender at Oikawa’s discretion and perform his humiliating tasks. If not for Tetsurou and his bravery, Kenma would have had no chance at helping with ruining Oikawa’s mafia group and pulling them both through. The blonde knew he was in Tetsurou’s debt for the rest of his life. The things he was doing now as an information provider for the criminals who destroyed Oikawa’s group were enjoyable in comparison to what Tetsurou has done for the twisted gangster. Though at the present moment Tetsurou was unable to collect his thoughts and memories…his boyfriend was anything but weak. If he needed someone to make decisions for him for the period of recovery, Kenma was more than glad to lend a hand.

So the fake blonde stayed awake, working on his cases, analysing and sorting the data. He seemed to fit for that sort of job better than for being a doctor. Who had chosen his faculty for him? His Mama? Kenma didn’t know anymore. But…speaking of education, Tetsurou had really wanted to be a chemist back then. Could he afford to let his boyfriend attend university? He sure could find the money, but how could he let Tetsurou leave their safe apartment and walk through the streets alone? Kenma couldn’t even imagine that. When he thought of Tetsurou being endangered and scared, Kenma’s hands began to shake involuntarily. They both were so sensitive about each other’s presence. It just meant they had the same fears after all. But there was nothing to do with it for now. Anyway, Kenma was sure that he will figure out everything later.

At 8 a.m. Tetsurou shifted on the couch and opened his eyes. He startled first and looked around nervously, relaxing instantly after noticing Kenma. Tetsurou always got anxious straight after waking up since they were staying in this apartment. The smaller boy stood up from his place at the kitchen table and joined Tetsurou on the couch, straddling his boyfriend’s thighs. He hugged the black haired from above and pressed their foreheads together, feeling Tetsurou’s arms embracing him gingerly.

“Hello sleepyhead,” whispered Kenma tenderly against Tetsurou’s lips. “I’m back.”

“Welcome home, kitten,” and the raven giggled happily.

“You didn’t go to the bedroom because you were afraid, right?”

Tetsurou’s gaze grew serious and anxious.

“No-no, stop it, don’t worry about anything, I’m here, I won’t leave you. And I am not angry at all. Just…sad. I am sad because you have such a hard time now.”

And Kenma smothered Tetsurou’s cheeks, chin, nose and forehead with light kisses. He kissed away the tears from his beloved’s eyes and smiled at him lovingly.

“Tetsu?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to take the lead for now? I have… read your notes on the table. I’m sorry I didn’t ask beforehand. I just needed to know.”

“Oh.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“No, Kenma, no! Though I would’ve preferred not showing them to you. It’s not that I have secrets from you, but...”

“Tetsu, I had to ask before looking, you have every right to get angry. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about the contents. It’s all right if you don’t tell me something because it’s hard for you. But I do not think it will be easier for both of us if you’ll keep everything to yourself. Listen. I’m so proud of you, Tetsurou; you found a way to fight your anxiety this night. It’s good that you wrote it down.”

“You’re too kind to me, kitten.”

The elder boy sounded so unsure and vulnerable, that Kenma’s heart started to ache. Kenma took Tetsurou’s head in his arms and locked their eyes.

“Tetsu. You’ve saved my life. You’ve endured a lot of things to let me live. I am forever in your debt. Ah-ah, don’t argue with me, that’s true! I will do everything for you. Now you are at a loss after so much trouble and your only wish is to stay with me; and sure enough, I will spend all my free time with you. But I can’t be with you every moment of your life. You don’t want anything from the world yet, so… I could just want things for us both. And think and work for us both. Don’t interrupt me, Tetsurou. If not for you, my burnt body would’ve been left in the ashes of our houses to be found by a criminology expertise. So, back to the major point. Do you want me to take the lead?”

“Yes. I will do all the things you say! Just be there for me, OK?”

“Of course I will! You don’t need to question it, Tetsu. There’s one thought which doesn’t sit well with me, though. If I tell you what to do all the time, will it be like with this mad gangster? He was trying to control you. You will feel unfree if you only do as I command…”

“Kenma, dear. It is an entirely different thing. I didn’t even know Oikawa’s given name. I will be happy to do as you tell me. I love you; I want to serve you; I’m the happiest when I’m pleasing you. You know, I would do anything if it’s for you. So, please, order me around as you wish; I’m in your possession.”

Now it was Kenma’s turn to get shy and silent. By the way, it was Tooru, Oikawa’s first name, not that he will ever say it aloud. What was he thinking about at all? How could Tetsurou shake his composure so easily? Didn’t he feel embarrassed while expressing such a genuine devotion?

Both boys fell silent, Kenma now lying comfortably on top of Tetsurou, sighing contentedly. Tetsurou’s ribs hurt a bit, but it was bearable. From time to time Tetsurou and Kenma started kissing, slow and tender, enjoying each other’s warmth and intimacy. The black haired played with Kenma’s hair absentmindedly when his partner asked:

“Tetsu?”

“Yes, darling?” purred his cat-like boyfriend.

“I want to hold you today, will you let me?”

“More than willingly,” whispered Tetsurou against Kenma’s strands of hair on the top of his head. “I’ve dreamt of it since high school.”

And they kissed again.

 

Later it was Tetsurou’s turn to cover sleeping Kenma with a blanket. The taller boy decided not to carry his boyfriend to their bedroom because he didn’t want to wake him up accidentally. Tetsurou stayed in the kitchen, he made pasta and some salads. He needed a cookbook to actually make up for the loss of skill… or Internet, but Kenma’s gadgets were prohibited to touch. So he proceeded with the easy dishes.

Kenma woke up at about 9 p.m. He sat up abruptly, looking around with big eyes.

“Kenma, I’m here! Can’t sleep without your big hot pillow, huh?”

“I have no idea what are you talking about, Tetsurou.”

“Sure thing! Go take a shower, dinner is ready.”

After Kenma had showered, they sat at the kitchen table and ate in a calm silence, only disturbed with casual remarks about their food and the weather outside.

“Tetsurou, have you really dreamt of being held by me since the very beginning?”

The black haired boy choked over his bite of salad. After he recovered, he looked at Kenma only to meet an intense gaze of his golden eyes. As if the smaller one wanted to devour him right then and there. Tetsurou needed another minute or two to find his voice.

“Not exactly. When I was a high schooler I’ve always imagined myself on top.”

“But then it changed?”

“Yeah, I guess so. When I was locked in that sky-blue room, I was thinking of you all the time. My memories and fantasies were the only resources that've let me keep my head above water. I understood back then, that making love to you for real would be the best thing that can happen in my life. And it absolutely doesn’t matter who will be topping or bottoming.”

“Oh…”

“Kenma, kitten, did I tell you that you are super cute when blushing?”

“Shut up, Tetsu,” mumbled Kenma, not lifting his gaze from his plate. “Are you ready with your food?”

“Yes, I am. Do you want me to feed you…”

“You talk too much. Go take a shower too and wait for me in the bedroom. And don’t do any dirty things while being alone!”

“And if I’d rather stay with you here after the shower?” a playful smirk didn’t leave Tetsurou’s lips.

“Hey, someone here has agreed to listen to my every command, and what do I hear? Arguing already?”

Tetsurou shifted nervously in his seat under Kenma’s stare. His cheeks were getting slightly pink and his smug demeanour cracked.

“I’ll go then, OK?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, go, please. You should be in the bathroom already, getting yourself nice and clean for me.”

Again that stare. Tetsurou darted off in a wink of an eye.

 

…The raven was sitting on the edge of their bed in the quiet bedroom. His hair was still a little damp from the shower and he wore only a bathrobe. Though Kenma had warned him not to play with himself, it was an excessive order. Tetsurou was so nervous that he almost started to bite his nails. After what seemed hours of waiting, the door was finally pushed open, and Kenma smiled to him with this special little smile, coming closer and leaning on the bed with his hands, each hand on the sides of the taller boy’s hips. Tetsurou’s agitation got a wholly different shade as the smile on Kenma’s face changed into the same hungry staring as previously in the kitchen. The older boy licked his lips in anticipation. He was feeling hot all over just from being so close to his boyfriend, not to mention his intense gaze. The raven wanted to joke a bit to lessen the tension, but Kenma put his index finger to Tetsurou’s lips.

“Don’t speak unless I say so. I know you had another stupid remark of yours ready to spill out of your mouth. Take off your bathrobe.”

The taller boy was happy to comply. He hastily freed himself from his clothes, though it was not that easy with Kenma’s hands still locking him in place.

“Good boy,” muttered the blonde. “Lie down comfortably, Tetsu.”

With this, he pushed the disoriented black haired boy so that the latter fell on the bed. Kenma straightened up and watched Tetsurou crawling nearer to the headboard. The smaller guy undressed slowly, staying in his black boxers only. His gaze never wavered, never left Tetsurou’s hot body. The raven could feel that he was half-hard now, just from Kenma’s intense golden eyes piercing him. He wanted to touch Kenma, to bring him close and kiss him, but he was told to be quiet, so the only thing he could do was beg with pleading eyes, melting before the actual game has started.

Kenma finally moved. He climbed on the bed, lay down beside Tetsurou and started kissing his collarbones, then his neck, tenderly, lightly, ever so present…But it was enough to send Tetsurou’s pulse speeding up. Kenma’s wonderful, amazing fingers trailed over Tetsurou’ s chest, rubbing his nipples from time to time, admiring his toned abs, touching the hipbones. Then Tetsurou felt Kenma kissing his right nipple; when the blonde boy started to suck at the little nub, Tetsurou couldn’t suppress a low mewl tearing from his throat. His eyes were shut, his breath coming out in pants, when he heard his beloved voice:

“Look at me, Tetsu.”

The voice was thick with arousal, and as the black haired looked up, he found Kenma straddling his waist and watching him through half-lidded eyes. And was it a sight to marvel: Kenma’s perfect lithe body covered with a film of sweat, his thin hands leaning on the taller boy’s chest, his eyes in a daze…They kissed slowly, languidly, as if all the time in the world belonged to them.

“I love you so much, Tetsurou. Please, don’t say anything, or I’ll lose it; you’re so gorgeous, it’s already too much…”

Saying this, Kenma turned his attention to Tetsurou’s neck again, sucking small hickeys along the collarbones, biting lightly with his sharp small teeth. His hands found the elder boy’s nipples again and started to pinch them lightly. After another minute of such treatment Tetsurou was a mess already: he gasped, shivered and squirmed under his lover’s slender fingers. He wanted to hug him, to pull Kenma close, because it was all he wanted now – to be as close with Kenma as possible. But Kenma didn’t let him, pinning his arms to the bed at his sides and signalling not to move them from the spot. The blonde lifted himself up and moved to the right side of Tetsurou; the latter whined from the loss of body contact. But he didn’t have much time to complain; soon Kenma’s lips were leaving sloppy kisses on his chest and down from his belly to his hip. The small boy’s mouth was moving agonizingly slow, unravelling Tetsurou more and more. As the raven was ready to break the silent spell and start to plea, he heard Kenma’s low voice:

“Turn around and rear on all fours.”

It was easier said than done, but Tetsurou managed to prop himself on his hands and knees, his long limbs visibly shaking, his hard untouched cock leaking precome. Kenma took something from a locker of the bedside table and the tall boy heard a bottle opening. A minute later familiar slender fingers were teasing his entrance, rubbing it in circles; and it felt so good, that Tetsurou was unsure whether he could hold on until Kenma starts to actually fuck him. As if reading his mind, Kenma asked:

“So needy, aren’t you? Want to come already, Tetsu?” A slick hand wrapped around Tetsurou’s cock and pumped it once, twice… Tetsurou panted heavily, falling to his elbows because his arms turned to jelly and absolutely refused to support him.

“Then come for me,” and with a deft movement of Kenma’s wrist, Tetsurou came in his boyfriend’s hand and all over the bedsheets. The orgasm was hard and mind-blowing; as strong as if Tetsurou had never felt an orgasm before. By the time his senses returned, he was still on all fours, and Kenma was wiping the mess away with a wet napkin. Was he still not allowed to speak? So cruel of Kenma; but he will tell him everything later: how much he loves him, how happy he is and that he had never felt anything so strong in his life as his connection to Kenma.

Apparently, they weren’t done for today, as Kenma pressed Tetsurou’s head into the pillow and returned to his spot between Tetsurou’s legs. Lubed fingers continued to rub at his puckered muscle, slicking it and making Tetsurou squirm and mewl. As the first finger pushed its way in, Tetsurou’s whimpers turned to loud sobs. Kenma fucked him slowly with his finger. He did it very carefully, as if he didn’t trust himself, as if by the next push Tetsurou will turn into a soap bubble and explode. The second finger followed some time after, and the pace quickened correspondingly. Tetsurou was reduced to a writhing and sobbing mess; Kenma’s chaste kisses on his backside didn’t help the situation in the slightest. After adding a third finger Kenma started scissoring him, brushing over his prostate lightly. The small boy had now to hold Tetsurou’s hips with his free hand to prevent him from falling onto the bed.

“Do you feel good?” a hoarse whisper came from behind. “Answer me, Tetsu!”

“Yes, yes, Kenma, so good… Please, please…”

“Stop moaning for a second and tell me, what you want, darling.”

With that Kenma started to press against Tetsurou’s sweet spot with every inward thrust of his fingers. Did he really think, that Tetsurou was able to speak? Load moans and sobs were filling the room, interrupted only by Kenma’s little hot whispers:

“Cat got your tongue? I thought you couldn’t wait for my permission to talk, and now you can only writhe and sob… I assume my fingers are enough for you, aren’t they? I know you can come untouched just like that, if I tell you so…”

“Ahh, no, please, put your dick in…! I want you so bad!”

Tetsurou’s moans were long transformed into loud cries as his prostate was constantly abused by Kenma’s magical fingers.

“Do I have to pity you?” asked Kenma, still thrusting his fingers into his lover’s asshole. “I would say “Yes” if we don’t want you to faint soon.”

The movement of his wrist stopped, and Kenma cleaned his hand with another napkin while watching Tetsurou trying to recollect his breath, sobbing loudly into the pillow. Who would know that Kenma could be so talented at unravelling him?

Tetsurou heard the sound of the boxers being pulled down Kenma’s legs and tossed aside, then a condom ripped open and some more lube being poured.

“Please, Kenma, fuck me!” Tetsurou tried to wiggle his ass as good as he could with his muscles nearly turned into a puddle.

“Mhm, I see you’ve recovered your wit, it’s a good sign. Lie on your back for me and hold your legs up. Good, so good, Tetsu, let me see you.”

Kenma leaned forward and kissed Tetsurou on the lips; the kiss wasn’t slow anymore, but it wasn’t messy as well, though their need became apparent with every lick of their tongues, with every bite on the other’s lips, with every invasion of the partner’s mouth. The blonde pulled away slowly and a tender smile lit his features. Tetsurou’ heart started to ache again at the view of Kenma’s smile. His love was so absorbing, so overwhelming, that his tears began to fall from his eyes while he was smiling tenderly at his lover as well.

Kenma didn’t talk at all after their kiss; he moved closer to Tetsurou’s groin, lined himself up and pushed in. Tetsurou growled at the sensation. Both lovers needed a moment to adjust themselves, then Kenma started to move, thrusting hard and fast right from the start. Tetsurou’s moans of pleasure grew even louder; he seemed to produce every sound possible in this situation. Boiling in his guts was unbearable, but he felt that he couldn’t come without Kenma’s permission. Since his first fantasy in Oikawa’s dungeon Tetsurou wasn’t able to come without imagining his boyfriend’s words:

“Come for me, Tetsurou!” upon hearing Kenma’s hoarse voice Tetsurou’s mind went blank and he was coming hard, pleasure engulfing his whole body. He didn’t feel how Kenma was riding him through his own orgasm, how he collapsed beside him after pulling himself out and tossing the used condom to the side, how Kenma managed to stand up and find a wet washcloth to clean his blissed-out lover before covering him in blankets and crawling to him inside the cocoon of love and warmth.

 

 

 

It’s been a month since Kenma and Tetsurou started to live together. Though the black haired boy was happy and became much calmer now, he still woke up with screams almost every day, startling Kenma. On one sunny morning, after Tetsurou was kissed and hugged as always after another of his distressful awakenings, Kenma whispered to his ear:

“It should be tough for you to have bad dreams every night.”

Tetsurou shifted on the bed so that he was now looking his beloved in the eyes:

“You know, Kenma, I’ve started to admire my nightmares. They give me a perfect opportunity to wake up every morning and discover that it was just a dream; and in reality, I am the happiest man on earth, having you as my boyfriend. They keep reminding me, how grateful I should be to my fate for your presence in my life and for your love. If the nightmares are the price for being with you than I am ready to have them every night till death do us part.”

“So embarrassing this early in the morning, Tetsu!”

But Kenma didn’t hesitate to kiss his lover, again and again, willing to confirm his love more with his body than his words. Needless to say, that Tetsurou didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very glad that I was able to finish my kinky fic!  
> I send my admiration and thanks to my sister and Karen-tyan, who didn't read my whole work yet, but they gave me positive feedback after I've published the first chapter and it encouraged me to continue!  
> Placebo and their music were my inspiration, I discovered their songs for me for the second time.
> 
> Thanks to all who had spent their time reading this! I'm glad if someone loves Kuroo as much as I do!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!  
> It was my dream to picture Kuroo as a submissive, and I also think that Oikawa makes a perfect fit as a sadistic Dom. So here I am!  
> Please, leave comments! I would be glad to receive any!!!  
> And please let me know if you see some mistakes!


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